


A closed book

by Agnes, PixelHeart



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Blood, Choking, M/M, Poisoning, Strangulation, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-02 16:46:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 30,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Agnes/pseuds/Agnes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PixelHeart/pseuds/PixelHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>- Bard of Laketown will not turn a blind eye on suffering, even if it it’s the suffering of someone who might deserve it. -</p>
<p>Bards curiosity grows when the unpleasant Councillor stubbornly shuts him out after an event that should leave them both on equal footing. Pushing to see why Alfrid has chosen a life of bitterness and selfishness, Bard tries his best to read a closed book, though Alfrid will do anything in his power to keep the man at bay.<br/>~ I am sure this story will get a little dark in places, just to warn you ~</p>
<p>Note ~ I’m in no way a good writer, but I do try my best. So please forgive me if this story is not good.<br/>I am one of those people who like the odd couples, so I think I might be the first to post this coupling, I hope i do them justice. Enjoy!</p>
<p>(Rating might go up!!!!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fateful meetings

Bard’s thick fingers burnt with the bitter air as frost started to settle on the wooden boardwalk under his padded feet.  
His day had been uneventful at most, the winter weather was starting to set in over the lake and it brought more snow with its arrival. His family lay at home asleep whilst he finished putting his equipment away from the day of work. Cold nights like these were hard on everyone in Laketown, but he never failed to find joy from gazing across the calm black water. Watching as the brilliant moon cast her light upon the waves, making everything sparkle with a clean and sharp ethereal glow.  
With his boat docked and his nets hung up to dry, Bard took his time to walk across the wonky town.  
He has only known of this place, growing up amongst the citizens and calling it home for over 30 years. He knew every corner, every person and every crooked rafter. The town was nothing to gloat about, it was a small fishing village, and its people were hardy but simple folk who knew only how to fish and trade goods that came to their humble town.  
Bard moved from dock to dock with skill, in no rush to return to his small home, it would be warm and his family would be tucked up safely in bed. Hot stew would be waiting in the pot ready for his return, though he willingly stayed out longer to enjoy the calm of the night, his thoughts with another.

But something was out of place and it caught his attention, his keen ears picking up on far off sounds. The stillness of the night was broken by hushed voices; they murmured and hissed from a darkened part of the town centre.  
Bard, not being someone to easily turn a blind eye followed in the direction of the low conversations to make sure they were harmless banter between neighbors and nothing more. 

He rounded a corner with grace so not to been seen, his brown eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, revealing three people cloaked in shadow just around this tight corner. It was apparent that this wasn't any old late night convocation but more of a struggle. Two heavily built men spoke hushed words to each other, standing strong and sturdy. Between them another dressed in black, but pulled against the large frame of one of the men with something around his throat.  
The captive clawed at his neck with desperation, failing to pull free whatever had been wrapped tightly around, blocking his airways and leaving him vulnerable.  
He made no sound, even when a thick fist collided with his jaw. Only a dull thud echoed through the air. Again another thud followed.  
Bard felt the bottom of his stomach fall away and the blood in his body boiled. Fist fights happened between frustrated citizens often, it was common, but to be outnumbered and choked upset him greatly. Without knowing of his own actions he set foot towards the two attackers. His pace was fast and dedicated, to put an end this injustice even if it put himself at risk.

"I do not know what this man has done to deserve such harsh treatment, but I urge you to let him free" Bards voice was low, quiet and demanding. He grasped at his trusty fishing knife by his side for protection, his hand shaking slightly with restrained anger at the show of violence.  
The brute turned to Bard, at first startled at being found out, but was soon flashing him a genuine smile. Immediately Bard recognised him, a family man like himself and a colourful character in the community.

"Ah! Bard! Take a good look. Would you not say this is not justified?" The hefty man turned slightly to show Bard their victim.  
It was Alfrid.  
His face was an unpleasant shade of red, his teeth gritted with his straining for freedom. He remained silent unable to breath and failed to register Bards company.  
"Georg… let the man breath." Bard stepped closer, wary of the situation. Alfrid was losing precious time and his eyes were already starting to glaze over.

"He's also given you trouble in the past. Shouldn't you be thanking me for this?" Georg whispered a hiss, trying not to raise alarm and win Bard to his side.

"That is no reason to end his life! You think disposing of the Masters councillor will change anything around here? There will always be others to take his place. Let him go and I will not let this reach the ears of the master." Bard pleaded, his eyes locked onto Georg's.

"You might not, but he will! Do you think this rat will let this go now?" Georg jolted his hands cruelly so that the wire around Alfrid’s neck bit into his skin tighter. Alfrid's knees buckled underneath him, his fight to stay conscious was fleeting.

Bard broke the eye contact long enough to see Alfrid, he was not at all someone Bard would consider worthy of much empathy, mostly when he never felt it for anyone other than himself, though Bards heart spoke up and death was not something he deserved.

"I will not stand here and watch you kill him" With that said Bard swung his knife recklessly towards the line digging into Alfrid's flesh. It cut cleanly through the thin wire as well as cutting into Alfred's neck, it was shallow and harmless but enough to make him bleed. Alfrid slumped forwards onto the decking, hardly able to wheeze his first breath since he had been choked.  
Georg and his companion turned tail but not before kicking the crumpled man into the freezing waters and violently shouldering Bard out of the way for good measure.

Bard saw Alfrid disappear into the black waters of Laketown. Ice floated away in the ripples and soon the surface settled into a smooth wet bottomless void.  
Bard waited, but there was no sign of Alfrid returning for air or his pale skin near the surface.  
Cursing profusely under his breath Bard paced the deck, pondering if going in after the greasy man would be a worthwhile risk to his life. He grumbled in defeat and shimmied out of his warm fur coat and boots. He wouldn’t let the man die now.

Diving into the ice water shook him enough that his mussels contorted; it felt like millions of tiny knives were cutting into his flesh over and over again. His lungs started to burn and the feeling in his arms and legs vanished almost completely.  
Focusing on his core strength, he willed himself to dive deeper after the unpopular man and get them both out as soon as possible. He felt around in the darkness, feeling nothing but burning cold Water rushing between his fingers.  
Time passed slowly, his breath running out and his body refused to function in the extreme conditions as he fumbled around in darkness. It felt futile.  
But then, just as he lost faith in finding Alfrid; fabric caressed his arm, he could hardly feel it from the numbness in his skin. But he gripped on hard, rising to surface to fill his lungs with much needed oxygen.  
Taking as much air as he could Bard then looped his hand under Alfrid's chin, lifting him up enough that he would be able to breath, if he was able to.  
The dock was not too high but still proved difficult to reach from the water, his numb and powerless arms managed to hoist the dead weight of Alfrid up to safety. It took longer to pull himself out of the freezing Lake after the strenuous task, but when he did, he collapsed wheezing and coughing.  
Bard felt his lungs burning; his body was numb and tingling with the torturous feeling of ice water seeping into him. Maybe it hadn’t been his best idea, though he had managed to get Alfrid out of the water and that was a relief.

Bard gathered up as much strength as he could, turning to see if Alfrid was in one piece and hoping it had not all been in vein. The man had always looked pale and sickly at the best of times, but now his lips were blue and his skin was a white-grey in colour.  
Bard didn't have to check if the he was breathing for the unhealthy rattling emanating from his throat was telling enough that he was able to get some air into his lungs after all that.  
He felt a hint of pity for the rook like man; Alfrid didn’t look as unfriendly without a constant sneer on his face, he didn’t resemble his personality. Soon Bards thoughts were overshadowed by the underlying need for a warm fur rug and a blazing fire to sooth away the cold.

Ideas of what to do with the unconscious councillor floated through his mind, any normal citizen of Laketown would have just left the cretin on the boardwalk to fend for himself. But it would definitely be the death of him if he took the option. Alfrid’s home was close to the masters halls and would be too far for him to drag the dead weight of a half drowned man. Not to mention it was swarming with guards, even at the dead of night.  
Bard waited for his breath to return to him before gathering his dry coat and dressing. He looked downward, Alfrid at his feet.  
He was still crumpled up in a heap, it would take a lot of strength to move him, but Bard felt it necessary to try getting him inside as quickly as possible and out of the cold.  
So bracing himself, Bard scooped the black haired man onto his shoulder. 

 

Bard managed to get the door to his home open with one hand; Alfrid still slumped over his shoulder. He would never have dreamt of inviting the likes of Alfrid to his family home, but he was sure that he didn't want the see the man die of excessive cold or drag him any further into the nest of guards.

The small home was warm, the fire still held dying embers from supper time.  
It’s red glow pulling Bard towards it with its enticing heat, he himself still freezing from the rescue. It took effort on his part not to drop Alfrid to the ground and run to soak up any heat he could. But his conscience stopped him from doing so and he lowered the soggy man to the hard wood flooring in front of the fireplace. 

Walking closer Bard putt a few more logs on the fire, revealing in the sudden heat of the burning wood.  
There were many days when the heat of the fire soothed him after work, but this was something else.  
He warmed his hands and felt the slow return of the sensations in his fingers. It felt good to feel them again despite it came with burning soon after.

He stripped himself of his coat and boots so that his damp clothing wouldn’t hinder him. With speed he grabbed some clothing from his room, the clothing tucked away neatly for the next day. Never had he felt so grateful for clean dry clothing to wrap himself in, the warmth fully returning to his blood.  
But he couldn’t dwell on the feeling of comfort for his guest was still freezing on his living room floor.

He returned and gazed down at Alfrid, wondering how he could help. It would be awkward to have to undress an unconscious man and not to mention it was Alfrid of all people. Alfrid’s lips were still blue and his choked breathing rasped through the still and silent home.  
Kneeling down to observe him further; Bard didn’t know if it was a blessing to have the unpleasant man unconscious or not. 

Alfrid resembled a drowned rat; his black hair clung to his pale white face in wet clumps. He was starting to bruise from the blows to the chin and cheek area, the angry looking mark around his throat from what had happened prior was also vivid.  
Whatever was used to strangle him, it had been thin and pulled tight enough to leave deep purple on his skin, and it stood out against the whiteness of his cold flesh, further worrying the bowman.  
Bard could see the small cut he had made to the man’s neck, it looked clean and shallow and nothing to be concerned about, but he was sure he would be reprimanded for his bold act.

Alfrid on the whole was entirely disliked by the people of Laketown, hated would be a better word for the overall mood.  
He deserved to be hated; a good punch in the face would even be expectable for the likes of him. But being choked and cast out to drown was too much in his eyes.  
Whatever made the two men act on their hatred was beyond him, but he doubted it was morally correct to go so far, even if it was Alfrid.

His coughing got worse as soon as he came round. Drawing Bard’s attention back to the man at his side, he didn’t think he would come round so soon. Alfrids eyes fluttered open and his brow creased when he tried to swallow, the pain evident on his face as he attempted to grasp his throat.

"You're awake, good" Bard slapped a friendly hand on Alfrid's soggy shoulder, only to receive more coughing in return. 

"You’re going to have to get warm, come closer I've put more logs on the fire." Bard watched Alfrid's face; he obviously was caught off guard. He was vulnerable, confused and most likely suffering quite a bit from the attack. But he still tried to wear his trademark scowl as a defence. Though it only amused Bard to see the faltering expressions on the younger man’s face. 

"Wh...*cough*... Where am I?” His voice was raspy and jagged and broken by coughing fits. He looked around, taking in his surroundings.

"You are in my house for now, it was closer than your dwellings" Bard couldn’t lie that it felt strange having him in his home.  
Alfrid gazed at Bard inquisitively, not sure on why Bard would take him into his own home. His brown eyes narrowed his lips still off colour from the cold.

"You really need to warm up; here I've brought you some fresh clothing. It will keep you warm until you can return home." Being the ever gracious of the two, Bard gestured to a pile of dry clothing that he had picked out with a smile. Alfrid remained quizzical to Bards generous offerings and kept his narrow eyes on the bow-man’s face, trying to read his intentions. He wasn't blind to the fact that most people would have walked away from him as his life slipped away, he gave them good reason. But Bard, he not only cut him free but had dragged him to his family home, offering clothing and warmth.  
To his bitter and poisoned mind, any action of kindness would be tactical, a way of gaining something from him perhaps? Alfrid now owed his life to the man, whether he liked is or not, but did Bard expect something in return? Most definitely, why would anyone do anything for other people but for self-gain? He had a family to support.

"I...*cough*... I don't know what you are planning Bard, but...*cough*... But you won't get it from me." The greasy man rubbed his throat; it felt like it was swelling. His body shook violently and water droplets dripped from his black hair onto the floor. He felt pathetically vulnerable and it did not sit well with him. 

"I need nothing from you. I just want to see you return home safely. The sooner you are warm, the sooner you can leave." Bard wasn't at all fazed by Alfrid's cold attitude toward him; if anything he expected the snarky comebacks and twisted looks.  
Alfrid only shot more dirty looks at the man by his side, still not convinced.

"Come on, get those wet clothing off. You'll get water on your lungs if you don't." Bard stood and walked closer to the pale man who remained man hunched on his floor.

"There's no way I'm undressing in your house." Alfred twisted his face at the thought; the older man had no issue to the idea by the looks of it.

"Don't be unreasonable, we are both men. I’ll leave the room to give to privacy" Again Bard pushed Alfrid into removing the freezing clothing, his amusement growing at the stubborn man more then it grating on his nerves like it should. But Bard knew that the longer Alfrid dwelled in wet clothing the bigger the risk of hyperthermia. He didn't take Alfrid to be a modest person. It didn’t look like he cared much about his appearance in the first place so his attitude seemed a little off.

"It isn’t going to happen." Alfrid snarled.  
"Look, Bard. I appreciate that you saved me. For that I am truly thankful. But I am not staying here" Each of his words dripped with a sickly hatred.  
He tried to stand, his legs threatened to give way under his weight. Wobbling and grabbing at a nearby chair to support him. He still looked sick and ready to fall.

"You’re not strong enough to make it back on your own. But if you must go, I'll help" Bard reached out and linked a strong arm around Alfred's waist, much to the man’s discomfort. He attempted to stride away from the touch, but felt his legs quiver violently.  
Even Alfrid had to accept the help given to him this time, even if it meant swallowing the bitter pill and damaging his pride. Slowly they both exited the comfort of the house and into the dead of night. The wind cut through them both, its bite sharp and unrelenting. Bard, dry and in his new clothing felt at the mercy of the chill. He feared that it would be too much and make Alfrid's condition worse. But the shorter man walked on in silence.

It took a longer time of walking to reach Alfrid's home then it should have, but Alfrid was slow with weakness and it dawned on Bard that maybe leaving the man to blindly and stubbornly return home was a bad idea after all. 

Alfrid’s home was a modest size and located close to the main hall, In close contact with the master. No doubt it was so that the master could have his councillor close at hand.

When they reached doorway, Alfrid fished around clumsily in his deep pockets for his key, relying heavily on Bards sturdy frame to keep him from falling. His fingers felt numb, so it took time to pick them from the cloth of his coat. It was harder to aim the heavy metal key to the lock with the violent shivering wracking his body.  
But again, with the help from Bard the door was open soon enough.  
Inside was dark, due to the lamps not being lit. But moonlight helped light the interior. Bard could only make out a few details of what was inside but was mostly distracted by Alfrid who pushed himself off of him to cling to the wooden doorframe. He turned his head to address his saviour, still wearing an unpleasant sneer as water dripped from his hair. 

"Are you okay Alfrid?" Bard could see the dazed look in the brown eyes that glared at him from the doorway. It looked like he was about to pass out at any moment.  
“Fine. Thank you. You can leave” Alfrid once again twisted his face into a sarcastic smile.

“I think you better let me help you get the fire started at least” Bards pleasant tone irritated the black haired man; he didn't want to have to associate with him though he knew he owed him so much more for saving his life.

“Are you hard of hearing? I said I’m fine” Alfrid tried to snap, but it came out more slurred than he wanted it to. 

“Alfrid, you need my help” It was a statement and Bard changed his attitude so that he might knock some sense into Alfrid.

“I don’t need anything from you” Alfrid looked Bard up and down with the strongest look of disgust. He didn’t trust the man in front of him. Bard was too nice, too proud. It was a way of mocking him in the most pleasant of ways and it made his blood boil.  
So giving the best snarl he could manage, he closed the door as hard as he could. Albeit not as hard as he had liked.

Bard cursed the man’s stubbornness, admitting defeat after he had attempted to do everything in his power to help. It baffled him why after everything, Alfrid still held nothing but contempt for him.  
____________

Alfrid slammed his back against the door as soon as it was shut, his breath was ragged and his entire body felt weak. He quickly slid the water logged coat from his shoulders letting it drop to the floor with a wet thud. The difference in weight felt like enough for him to shuffle his way to his bedroom, there he could light a fire and get himself dry, though In his weakened state the thought of the effort of physically having to tend to the fire was almost too much to contemplate.

Using the wall to aid him Alfrid made his way slowly towards his room, his legs growing ever weaker the longer he stood. With enough effort he reached his room, though the expenses of energy made him give up on the idea of lighting a fire.  
He swayed looking at his bed with heavy eyes; it was too inviting not to resist collapsing on top of its soft covers.  
Grunting, he ungraciously fell onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. The fireplace still not lit and the remaining water in his clothing soaked through into his dry bedding.  
His eye’s closed, unable to stay awake. He knew it was a mistake.


	2. A closed book - Stubborn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bard finds out just how stubborn Alfrid can be.

Morning broke over the humble floating town and its people who trickled out of their homes to go about their daily routines.

Bard had awoken early and had already kissed his children awake, all having slept soundly that night. Neither mentioned hearing a cough of a stranger, which came as a small relief to Bard who rather wanted to avoid going into details of what had happened that night.

His body felt drained of energy from the stressful night, but despite feeling a little worse off he continued to walk out into the crisp air of daybreak. The smell of freshly cooked fish drifted throughout the town and the many boats still had yet to be prepared for a day of labour.  
Bard greeted his fellow neighbours who in turn greeted him with warm smiles, his presents in the community was always welcomed with kindness; unlike a certain counsellor for example.

Bard despite himself wanted to see if Alfrid was any better, the whole ordeal had left him with an over baring worry, a worry that he shouldn’t have to bear. A cure for such worry would be to go along with his heart and check on Alfrid, but he did wonder if going to see him was the best idea.  
Perhaps he was unfit for his work that day? It wouldn’t surprise him to see the stubborn man up and about, stuck to the Masters side like usual however, sneering at the citizens like nothing had happened.

Whatever the outcome, Bard new that paying him a visit would just end up with Alfrid spitting at him and using his unpleasant personality to drive him away.  
Unlucky for Alfrid, Bard had a thicker skin than most people, anything that jagged raven of a man could throw at him wouldn't mean much.

Bard jumped across a boardwalk to reach the path leading to the town centre. It would lead him to Alfrid’s home and the main hall. He never chose to take this particular rout much, the guards would often question him, eyeing him up with suspicion. The centre was their hub of activity; the hive around the queen bee so to speak.

After darting around wooden beams and fellow townsfolk, Bard made it to Alfrid's door without being seen by the guards. He took a second to contemplate on turning and leaving the bitter man to his twisted life, he didn’t own him anything. But his bubbling curiosity drove him to knock on the heavy wooden door, despite the oncoming regret of starting his day with an irritated Alfrid and a lifetime of glaring suspicion.

"Alfrid? Are you awake?" Bard felt the sense of not belonging; everyone knew that the two didn't mix, swapping snide remarks on a daily basis. Bard would go out of his way to infuriate that man for fun, just to see the underlying hated boil up in his eyes. He’d always seen it as a game; it wasn’t his fault Alfrid was easy to wind up.

Thankfully Alfrid's door was tucked away in a small ally wrapped around the town hall so that any questioning members of the community would not likely see him on the door step.  
Bard waited for a reply, though he doubted he would get one. So he tested the door with little hope, but was surprised to see it was still unlocked from when Alfrid had let himself in; he had forgotten to lock it in his state of exhaustion. It creaked open to reveal that Inside was lit faintly from the morning sun. It gave him a better look at the interior, for last night it had been far too dark to see. It was a simple home, not what Bard would have imagined. It was wooden and homely.  
Along the walls were books and papers, showing an insight into Alfrid's hobbies.  
He was a learned man. Not what a first impression would give you when his speech was dripping in a heavy common dialect; thick and aggressive.  
But as civil servant he had the job of book taxes and tolls, book keeping and writing the masters demands. So he would have to be fully competent with literature.   
To be fully trained in the art of reading and writing was unusual for a citizen of Laketown. Almost all the people who dwelled there had no education to speak of and would learn only the life skills that they needed to make a living. But somehow Alfrid had managed to find education, though it was evident that he came from common stock.

Bard let himself in and hesitantly walked to the living room, the fire pit was unlit and evident that a long time had passed since it held any embers.  
There was no sight of Alfrid in the living room other than a discarded coat he had worn the other night, Bard moved further into the home. Hoping deep down that the house was empty, he was well aware that he was less the welcome, but a niggling feeling was eating away at him, encouraging him to seek out Alfrid.

The floorboards creaked under his footsteps, each sound felt loud in the quiet house and Bard could feel his heart beating in his ears. He felt like he was in direct danger of Alfrid’s wrath, in the belly of the beast and he was about to be ripped apart at any moment.  
Alfrid would no doubt be furious to have the likes of him swanning through his private home uninvited.  
Bard soon found the doorway to a bedroom and before he could give himself enough time to think about turning back, he walked in slowly, careful not to alert Alfrid if he was there.

…….

Alfrid’s ears picked up a distorted noise, it sounded far off and foreign.  
It pulled him out of the quiet darkness of his sleep and into a world of noise and uncomfortable burning light.

"Alfrid...Alfrid?" The voice still wavered into his ears; he felt something gripping onto his shoulder. Pushing and pulling him aiding the already spinning world to move more violently around him. He grasps at the bedding to stop it from spinning, but it continued.

He attempted to open his heavy eyes, but the painful bright light attacked his senses. He could at least make out a bury shadow, it loomed over him and shook him with strong hands.  
If it was human or just a dream, it didn’t matter; he would just sleep until it despaired.

…...

Bard cursed himself for having left Alfrid to care for himself, he had obviously been too weak to tend to the fire or even remove his wet clothing. He had collapsed as soon as he had reached his bed, staying there cold and vulnerable to sickness. It angered Bard to know that he was partially to blame.

With speed, Bard ran to the living room to light a fire so that he could succeed in warming Alfrid, he was surely going to suffer.  
This time Alfrid didn't have the willpower to turn down any help given to him, not that Bard would be discouraged now.  
With the fire set and burning nicely, Bard returned to Alfrid who remained lying on his bed, unwilling to open his eyes.

"You’re not going to like this." Bard said through gritted teeth before scooping Alfrid up into his arms, feeling the dampness of the water seeping into his own clothing. At this, Alfrid became more alert and attempted to fight off the man who had no regard for his personal space, but stopped struggling as soon as the strength had left him.

Bard set Alfrid down in front of the fire, just like he had done the night before. He grabbed at some blankets that were hung up nearby; it would help to get Alfrid dry as soon as possible.

Alfrid, who had now woken up enough to gaze at Bard moving around his house, he tried his best to return himself to the snarky, unpleasant person he had chosen to be and use whatever energy he had to burn holes into the intruder. Though his brown eyes looked more unfocused them menacing.  
"Ge...*cough*...get out... Of my house" Alfrid's voice rasped at the barge-man but it lacked any power. He then proceeded to cough violently into his arm.

The remark was ignored and soon Bard knelt beside Alfrid who flinched when the other man brazenly rested the back of his hand to his forehead.   
Bards fathering skills came in handy when it came to caring for the sick, though this was no sick child but a very irritated man.  
Alfrid swatted the hand from his forehead and tried to reprimand Bard for daring to touch him, but failed when he started to cough violently again.

"You are burning up, it's hardly surprising that you’re sick" Bard looked into Alfrid's eyes to see if they reacted naturally.  
Though the brown orbs returned the look; delayed and glazed over with illness, but still burnt with hatred.

Bard sighed. Alfrid's attitude towards him would make things difficult.  
"Look, I'm trying to help you. I won't take no for an answer, not this time" Bard looked around him, to see what could aid him.

"Listen you pest…* cough*... I don't need help from the likes of you...*cough*" Alfrid wheezed, his throat felt like he had swallowed glass. His body burnt and his world spun wildly around him.  
Worse of all was the fact that he felt genuinely concerned. Never had he felt this sickly or weak in his life, and now he had to hide this from Bard who was almost as stubborn as himself, or so he had the impression.  
He lacked the energy to turn the man away and he felt that even a close brush with death would be a better option than to have this man pry into his weaknesses and dance around his home.

"Well you have no choice, I left you to get this bad and now I need to try pick up from where I left off, I won't let this go. I'll get you back on your feet, don't you threat." Bards genuine concern would perhaps work on anyone other the Alfrid. The words he heard felt more like nails in the coffin.  
Bard wouldn't rest until he had picked him apart, to feast upon his vulnerable and most hidden places. All his life being a nasty, smarmy and twisted character had kept people from getting to close, getting to know him so that they could then defeat him with his own shortcomings.

"I'll have you arrested for this... You're trespassing" Alfrid scrambled for the best shield he could use. The law, his trusty barrier for him to use at his will.

"I don't understand Alfrid, why are you turning away help when you desperately need it? Why are you so determined to turn me away that you'd rather sit here and suffer than to be aided" Bard took in the seething look of the greasy man, his face painted into a snarl, he resembled a cornered animal over that of a man.  
Bard was aware that Alfrid was cold, manipulative, secretive and a loner. He even knew a small amount of the man’s past. But it baffled him that someone could be so heavily guarded to the point of self-destruction. What lay under that mask of a putrid human? Whatever it was, it only made Bard more curious. It couldn’t just be that fact that they didn’t get on; Alfrid treated everyone apart from the master with the same bitter resentment.

"Get! Out!” Alfrid failed to find better words to reply to Bards question.  
Bard was starting to chip away at his shield. It was oblivious now that the man wanted to find something and it concerned him greatly. Already Bard had burrowed himself into his home.  
The two stared at each other with utter frustration, one of them would have to give in and Bard was sure that he had the upper hand; Alfrid was in no shape to keep fighting him off.  
Suddenly heavy hammering broke whatever glaring contest they had. Alfrid clutched his head and verbally cursed whoever was at his door, the loud knocking ripping his head apart painfully from the inside. Bard shot a look towards the door, remembering that it remained unlocked.

"Alfrid! You are being summoned by the master" the booming voice must have come from one of the guards. Alfrid would have already been at the master’s side by now, tending to his every need if only he wasn’t so sick.

The door opened and in walked two guardsmen, they had also found Alfrid’s door to be unlocked and had invited themselves in.  
They addressed Alfrid and Bard with questioning looks, baffled by the sight of the well-known rouge and a very dishevelled looking advisor burning with fury on the floor.

"Are you being bothered sir?" The guard still looked puzzled at the odd sight.

"Yes, get him out of my sight! Now! “Alfrid started to cough again, it was clear to the guards that the crow like man was sick.

"You don't look to well; shall we notify the master that you will be absent?" Alfrid turned his head, his face pale and his hair still wet from the Lake water.

"I’ll be there ... Now get out of my house and take him with you" Alfrid snapped, his delirium dripping from his words.

"Do not stain yourselves; I can leave on my own. But I was about to help Alfrid here out of his wet clothing so that he can get warm. I'm sure you can pick up from where I left off" Bard mused, watching Alfrid’s face twist in horror; he knew what game Bard was playing. The guards looked to one another in a panic; the thought of having to aid their superior in such a way wasn’t something they wanted to do. Not whilst the unpleasant man would no doubt curse them and fight them off with his poisonous tongue.

"It’s clear that you are in no fit state for leaving the house, we will notify the master and leave you in this man’s capable care" The speed in which the guards left was telling of their change of heart.

"You will pay for this!" Alfrid managed to shout after them but soon started to choke violently again on his words.  
Bard had won this time around and it both worried and angered Alfrid beyond words.

Bard smiled down smugly at the grumpy man at his feet, he felt rather pleased with his victory.  
Alfrid stayed silent and ran his fingers through his messy hair with frustration, the feeling in his body making it hard to focuses on holding up his side of the fight.

“I wasn’t jesting, I’ll need your clothes off” Bard walked to Alfrid’s room to rummage around for dry clothing despite Alfrid’s discussed expression at his use of words.  
Bard found some clean clothing and returned to Alfrid who now decided to remain silent, his battle almost up, he felt to sickly to continue fighting his corner.

“Don’t look so upset Alfrid, you’re making too much of a drama out of this” Bard dropped the shirt and trousers at Alfrid’s side and approached the fireplace to poke and urge some more life into it. The crockpot above was empty.

Thinking it best to make something for the ill man to eat would distract him long enough for Afraid to change and not feel like he was being watched. After all Bard really didn’t want to see what the man looked like under his clothes, his face was bad enough.

Walking away again Bard felt the glare burning into his back whilst he rummaged around for ingredients, deliberately taking his time to offer Alfrid some space.  
The advisors food supply was a lot more lavish than what he was used to, though not at luxurious as he had expected of the councillor. Bard could only feed his family on a base diet of fish and a small amount of vegetables and bread; it was good enough to get by on, but he would give them so much more if he could.

Alfrid had not only Vegetables but berries from land, no doubt a perk for working with the master.  
Alfrid sighed audibly like a defeated child. Bard had given him enough space to dress without it being too awkward, though the thought bothered him greatly that he was still under some form of observation.

He hoisted the blanket Bard had given him over himself so that he could dress with a little more privacy.  
Reaching to unfasten his belt first, he couldn’t help but grimace at the feeling of his weak arms. There was no power left in them, not like he had much before though it made him feel vulnerable.

Casting the belt aside he proceeded to undo his top, feeling the warmth of the fire touch his skin. His feverish temperature over took him, furthering his discomfort.  
Trying his best to shimmy out of the wet top proved difficult, his muscles felt busied and ached whenever moved.

When he was finally free of the top, he uncaringly discarded it to his side. Pausing for a short time to breath, every movement was draining and the tight pull on his chest made him choke on another coughing fit. It slowed him down and the lethargy spiked his concern.

Bard having found a good supply of vegetables started to prepare them, using a shiny knife to chop and dice them into appropriate sizes.  
He didn’t think for one moment that Alfrid would eat the food he prepared him, it felt more like tending to an irritating cat who would rather turn its nose up at its food and starve.  
For not knowing the man on a personal level, he was actually quite easy to read, on some levels.

Alfrid had eventually managed to dress himself, it was a relief to be out of the damp clothing and already he could feel his skin reacting to the warmth.  
He reached up to rub at this throat, the bruising was tender and the memory burnt into his mind in a flood of cold fear.

He had been summoned by the two violent citizens claiming of suspicious on goings. Naturally he had turned them away; the guardsmen capable of dealing with anything to do with civilian issues, though they had told him that there were foreign boats on the water.  
Alfrid cursed himself; he should have taken the guards with him. It hurt his pride to admit that he had made the mistake of being so blasé with the likes of the town’s folk, he considered himself a little more intelligent than to have been tricked so easily.

If Bard hadn’t been nearby, he would be floating face down in the cold waters, something for the fish to eat.  
He remembered the feeling of needing to breathe distinctly, the wire around his neck squeezing any hope out of him. The desperation and helplessness had reached a limit, his animalistic fear had run away with him. It took him back to the dark places in his mind, memories and other situations he would rather not have to think about.  
The two will pay for what they had done to him, if they hadn’t fled the town already.

Alfrid’s shaky hand gripped onto his sleeve, it was a simple move but it felt comforting to cling to. He needed to get Bard away from him and his home so that he could start to recover physically and mentally.

The bowman baffled him, it was evident that he was a man of good morals and Alfrid never doubted it. But why would he bother with the likes of him, why risk your life for someone who hates you? Why stick around now after he had thrown everything he had at him to make him leave.  
He had nothing to offer him in the way of money, not much anyway. Working for the master had its upsides, but the over indulgent man was just that, over indulgent. He hung to every piece of gold that fell into his lap. The master was so hungry for the wealth that Alfrid was his only councillor.  
He would council, but he also cared for the lazy fat man. He would cook his meals, wash his clothing, and wash his back. He was a glorified maid to the master and still his wages were only slightly higher than the guardsman. The master resented him and in turn Alfrid resented the master. It was a relationship built only on what they could both gain from one another.

 

The master had Alfrid to be his eyes and ears, reporting anything that might be troublesome and Alfrid had a stable and safe perch away from the people he hated.  
It wasn’t perfect but it worked.

Alfrid chewed his lower lip; the master would be awake by now and would need his brandy. Never had he been late or absent from his duties, he couldn’t afford to lose his position in the ranks. Not whilst he was still breathing.  
As soon as he had enough energy, he would be back to the master’s side, an unpleasant experience but one that beat any other role that would be fit for him.

“Are you dressed?” Bards voice carried across the living room and blended with the crackling of the fire.

“Yes…” Alfrid replied bitterly, looking over his shoulder to see Bard approaching with the diced vegetables in hand, balanced on an old wooden chopping block.

“You’re wasting your time” Alfrid’s lip parted up into a half-hearted snarl, his will power was fading and the thought of food made his stomach churn at the mere thought.

“I figured as much. But I thought it was worth a try.” Bard twisted the knife in his hand and pushed the vegetables into the crockpot.

"I don't have time for this, I have work to attend" Alfrid wobbled as he rose up into a standing position the blanket falling onto the floor. He stumbled and almost fell, his legs refusing to hold his weight.  
Bard quickly discarded the knife and chopping board on the nearby table, reaching out to Alfrid. He gripped onto his arms and for a moment Alfrid let himself be held in place, so not to fall.

"Maybe you should rethink that?" Bard looked to the dark haired man, his hair hanging over his face and the bruising on his chin made him look frail. Even if he was stubborn enough to attempt to go to the master’s side, his body would be too weak to get him there.

"This doesn't concern you!" Alfrid snapped, his eyes still hidden from sight under his messy hair.

"I have no idea why you feel like you need to coddle me! Believe me I can handle a little illness." He spat through gritted teeth, anger boiling up with the knowledge that his legs would likely give way under him in full view of the taller man. He prayed that they would hold him long enough, so that Bard wouldn’t have to see him crumble.

"I'm making it my concern; it's obvious that you are too thick headed to know what's good for you!" Bards booming voice filled the room, making Alfrid jolt in alarm. It was a small movement but the sway of his long hair gave it away. Bard held his breath, he didn't expect to see Alfrid react in such away and he felt an odd sense of regret run through him.  
Alfrid stayed quiet, his brown eyes cast heavily on Bard.  
Slowly, he turned and moved away toward the front door, his naked feet making small patting sounds on the solid floor as he wobbled and swayed, but managed to stay standing.

Bard let the remorse flutter away and be replaced with frustration once again. The councillor glared at him as he slipped into some fur boots, they felt soft and warm under his toes and soothed him enough to continue, grabbing his dry cape and wrapping it around his shaking shoulders.

"You going to let yourself out? Or am I going to have to send guards to drag you to the cells?" Alfrid's thick, common accent drifted to Bard who had his arms crossed tightly.

"You are a monumental twat, you know that Alfrid?" Bard took the crock pot off of the fire and marched passed Alfrid and into the cold, missing the look of wiry victory on Alfrid's face.

“I certainly do”


	3. Twisted ideas

Chapter three

The master of Laketown tutted to himself, his Councillors’ absence was a huge hindrance to his day. A huge bother in fact. He not only had to get himself out of bed but he had to pour his own brandy, like some filthy commoner. Though he was reassured that he was just as capable, if not more capable of pouring brandy in a more dignified manner. He was above Alfrid in all aspects, it didn't even matter that he had spilt some of the expensive golden liquid in the act of self service.

Now if only he knew where his clean clothes were, then he would be able to go about his business, keeping the townspeople in check.

The ginger man grumbled pathetically, it was unlike Alfrid to be absent. This maybe the first time as far as the master can recall. But the guards had told him that his councillor was at home sick… with the likes of that troublesome bargeman. The signal father was up to something, he was always a concern when it came to his ruling and the fact that he was supposedly socialising with his confidant was unsettling. Alfrid would have to be thoroughly interrogated on the subject on his return.

The master sat down at his desk, still in his grubby nightgown, grunting when his back popped a little with the movement. It wasn’t as if he didn’t trust Alfrid, he knew well that the man held as much dislike for Bard and the townspeople as he himself did. Perhaps it was Alfrid’s little way of digging up valuable information, he was sly and slippery and very competent when it came to getting the dirt on people.

Not long after sitting down, the sounds of light footsteps echoed in halls.  
The master’s head rose to see his Councillor approaching slowly, looking a little more hunched over than usual, but still loyally joining his side.

“Ah! There you are Alfrid! I was informed that you would be bed ridden, but here you are." the master eyed up his servant who was now close enough to see.  
The red haired man shot a curious look at Alfrid's dishevelled appearance "You look more horrible than ever, what on earth happened to you?

"I was brutally attacked sire, by two of the townspeople. I fear it might be a small uprising." Alfrid rotated his stiff shoulders at the memory, his throat still burning. "If I might suggest, it would be best to put the fire out before it spreads. Who knows, if they have other plans? Some plans that may endanger your well-being"

The masters eyes bulged at the very thought. "You aren't suggesting that I would be in danger are you?" His over grown eyebrows rising in alarm.

"I represent you sire. To attack your loyal councillor, is an indirect attack on you and your name... I would go so far to call it treason sire" Alfrid shuffled forwards, his intense gaze filled with his manipulative nature. If he could twist the arm of the master, then the two violent citizens wouldn't stand a chance.

"Treason!? Well I will not stand for this! The very thought of it!" The master shot up in his seat, slamming his fist down on the desk, knocking over a stack of books in his fit of rage.  
Alfrid held back a smirk; it was rare to see the overweight man move so fast.

"It truly is upsetting sire, shall I notify the guards?"  
"Yes, yes by all means! We cannot have these, ungrateful vermin running free in my town." Alfrid tipped his head, a small bow to his superior, though it held no trace respect.

"A very wise call sire" Alfrid turned on his heel, walking away weakly, still frail in his sickness.

"One more thing before you disappear." Alfrid paused, his back still turned towards the master. "This Bard character?... Was there a reason you had him in your home?" The curiosity dripped off of the master words like damp little droplets; a little hint of judgment in his tone.

"He had forced himself into my home this morning. Intruding and refusing to leave sire, it would seem this town is full of people who don't know their place." Alfrid turned to see the master cock an eyebrow at him.

"Why would he force his way into your home? Was there a reason for this? It all sounds awfully out of place, concerning even"

Sighing to himself Alfrid contemplated whether or not to lie, to taint Bards name further in the eyes of the Laketown master. Who knew, maybe he could be rid of the man for good if he played his cards right. Claiming that Bard was also connected to the two attackers would be one way around, though even Alfrid - despite his bitterness and outward hatred for the man, couldn't bring himself to manipulate the situation further. Bard had saved his life after all. Banishment would be the best thing, though being mixed up with his violent attackers, risking a death sentence? Alfrid didn’t want it to go that far.

"He was... concerned with my health sire. I turned him away." Once again Alfrid made for the doorway, eager to have his revenge on the people who had made him question his own safety on living his home.

"A blind man would be able to see that the two of you don't mix, why would he be showing concern? After all he's never shown any sign in the past."  
Twisting his hidden face into one of pure annoyance Alfrid pivoted on his heel, it was clear the master was still not finished.

"People like him sire, they like to go out of their way to prove to themselves that they are true hearted. But you see they're not, it’s those little acts of kindness that help them sleep at night... When the bad thoughts arise, they can delude themselves; say that they aren't that person... They never are as wonderful as they would like to think." He knew people well enough and the knowledge had got him to the top of his tree in life, not that it was glorious or even a place he felt happy, but it was a vast improvement from where he had started.

"I see. He certainly is a wolf in sheep’s clothing… Yes, it would seem that he is rather talented with getting the people on his side." The master perched his soft round chin on the back of his hand, a twinkle in his grey blue eyes.

Alfrid knew by the tone of the master’s voice that he wasn't going to like what nasty thought was brewing in his thick round head. It mostly would have him running around after him.

"Maybe, if we are cunning enough. We can use this to our advantage... Yes, I think that if his strength lies with the people’s love of him, we can poison their view. Turn the town against him and then arrest him. No one will question then. “The glint in the master’s eye almost made him look intelligent.

"A very good plan in theory sire, but turning the town on a single father might be more difficult than you would imagine. After all, I've had my eye on him, day after day and I still fail to find anything that could be used against his name. Other than his disrespect for your authority, but that only strengthens their respect for him."

Bard was intelligent, if he did anything that might be against the law or against Alfrid or the master; he was always out of sight and one step ahead of the game with the support of the people around him to cover his tracks.

"He doesn't need to have done anything, we can make it seem like he has been up to much more than being a blight on my good name... Maybe we can make it seem like he has pulled the wool over their eyes. Let's see how well they handle their local hero when he has been taking them for fools all this time." A raspy and unhealthy sounding laugh escaped the master’s throat. "I will leave the details up to you of course."

It wasn't a bad plan, in fact Alfrid had thought up many ways to rid himself of Bard once and for all. He wanted to see that smug grin wiped off his handsome face once and for all. It would bring him solace to know that Bard could no longer plague his days with his presence.  
Maybe it was still possible to drive him out of the town, he had the master on his side and it was fully possible.

"I do have a few suggestions" Alfrid twisted his bruised lips into a sickening smile. He would see Bard out of the town and be free from his perpetual good will and the cloud of adoration and good fortune that always seemed to follow him wherever he went.

Contemplating on his first suggestion, Alfrid stalled. The master would be hard to persuade. The methods he had in mind we're not something the old man would easily agree to. Though, it would be the strongest way of turning the people against Bard.

"It will require a little sacrifice however” Alfrid dragged his words out.

“A small amount of coin will have to be spent."  
The masters face darkened at the thought though surprisingly enough, didn't brush off the statement immediately.

"Coin!?” The ginger man spluttered. The once intelligent looking glow in his eyes replaced with his greed.

“How much and what for?" The master stuttered. Alfrid only tilted his head to the side, his usual fake smile fixed on his pale face.

"A very small amount, you won’t even notice a difference sire, just enough to raise Bards income enough that he will be earning more than the others.”  
Alfrid felt the curious gaze of the master, it was evident he didn’t quite grasp the idea.

“They feel loyal to him because they are on equal footing - one of the same. Let's see how loyal they are when they are starving and he is living in comfort. Nothing turns people sour more than the power of money." 

The master took time to think Alfrid's idea through, his face twisting and twitching as he struggled with the idea of parting with valuable coin.

"It's true that the poor will detest the wealthy... Yes... yes I suppose we can give it shot. But only for enough time that there are visible results! I don’t wish to waste a good fortune on such a lowly commoner for too long." Alfrid felt his heart flutter, he didn't really believe that the master would even consider his plan, let alone give him permission. It filled him with a new feeling of strength, inspired to see results of his plan.

Despite his fever, he felt more alive now that something was finally going his way.  
Bard will soon be wealthier and the rose tinted glasses of the townspeople will soon start to crack.

"Oh, and I don't want you anywhere near me." Alfrid was suddenly caught off guard by the rather blunt comment from his superior. 

"You are obviously ill, I don't want to catch anything you might have. You might be contagious" The master shook himself at the thought.   
Alfrid raised his brow, his luck finally turning in his favour.

……

Alfrid wrapped his black fur cloak around himself, the cold air embracing him as he walked along the short wooden pathway to the guard’s quarters. He would see the two men hanged for what they had done and he needed Braga to command the man hunt.  
Braga was the only person Alfrid could stomach, not that that meant much for the captain of the guards still irritated him thoroughly, though it was easier to be in his presence then anyone else in the town.

Luckily for Alfrid the Guards quarters were well stocked with healthy fireplaces, making it far cozier than the world outside wrapped in winters unforgiving grasp. Braga was close by.  
He was on his feet and holding healthy convocation with two other guards men, they soon caught the sight Alfrid approaching and dismissed themselves so that their superiors could speak alone.

“My god Alfrid, what happened to you?” Braga eyed up Alfrid’s busied face, much like the Master had only with a little more genuine concern.  
Alfrid replied by hooking a pale finger under his collar, pulling away the black fabric to reveal the even angrier looking mark left by the wire. Now a deep purple surrounded in dappled red. Braga’s eyes widened at the sight. “What in the world”

“Georg and his dim witted friend Addar” Alfrid spat the names out like they were poison in on his tongue.

“Last night I was mercilessly attacked. The master wishes to see them hung, they are the be treated as a small rebellious uprising and must be dealt with immediately”

Braga, looked ready to jump into action. “I will rally my men, I’ll see these two face justice” The plump man looked over his shoulder, a good few guards lingered nearby, enjoying the warmth.

“I know you will, but be aware that they may have left for land.” Braga nodded, still looking over Alfrid closely. 

"What about you? You do not look well."   
Alfrid held back the need to roll his eyes at the man. It was plain to see that he looked as ill as he felt. The thought of Braga contemplating his health felt intrusive and a little off putting.

"I have been relieved of my duties for today, though I can’t rest yet. I have something of importance to handle" He would find that troublesome Bard and start his plan, he was eager to see him unravel.

....

Bard shifted his balance with the rocking of his boat, years of sailing making the act second nature to him. The water was calm and the winter’s sun cast its subtle light over the land afar. Soon he would start taking his son with him on trips like these, like his father had with him when he was a lad. The idea filled him with joy and his pride got the best of him. He broke out into a smile that the idea.  
The quite gave him time to think about these things, the solitary nature of his work was welcome to him and he’d never want for more.  
His thoughts drifted as the sound of the water lapped at the sides of the boat. Last night had been far from what he was comfortable with. Life in Laketown was tough and it made the people capable of questionable acts. There had been a fair few aggressive attacks between people, mostly fuelled by strong alcohol and the overwhelming lifestyle of scrounging for food and clothing. It wasn't unusual.

Bard breathed through his nose slowly as he pulled the oar towards him, the heat of his breath mixing with the air in a puff of mist. Why had he even bothered with the likes of Alfrid in the first place? He knew well that the outcome he had reserved was more than likely, but he didn’t want it to end there. Something had stuck, he felt compelled to find out more; if it was an odd angle of bullying he was unsure. But it felt strangely amusing to irritate the man further, even if he was one of the most poisonous, vicious and unpleasant men in the whole town, there was something to be found out and it spurred him on and kept creeping back into him mind.

He let out a small puff of a laugh, thinking that maybe he had too much time to ponder these things.

Bard knew only small fragments of information on the man, he had lived alongside him in the rugged town and it was hard to avoid forming some form of acquaintances with other locals. Being a few years older than Alfrid gave him a head start, thought he couldn’t quite remember seeing the wisely man too often in the past.

All he could remember was that Alfrid had been councillor to the master for a good long while. His bent over form shuffling after the aging man day after day, he had been younger and possibly less outwardly bitter the first time he had noticed. But he had always been there.  
Bard looked up to see his beloved town in view; it was crooked but beautiful in its own right. To pass into the town by boat he would need to enter the gate, the guards waiting to inspect what went it and out of the town. Most days Alfrid would be lingering to make sure the paper work was in order.

The huge rusted gate towered over him and his little boat, the guards men waiting for a signal to open them. They creaked and moaned under their own weight as they started to shift, allowing him access.  
Bard greeted the guards with a bright and cheeky smile, a little game he liked to play with them. He never did get one in return.

A stocky guard approached, his strides calm and rigid.  
"Ah, good evening! Am I free to pass?" Bards voice was as smooth as ever.

"You are, but I’ve been told to inform you that you are to seek out Alfrid; the sooner the better." The short guard inspected the small boat with a quick glance to make sure all was in order.

Bard raise a brow, after being kicked out from Alfrid's home, he had doubted that the man would want to acknowledge him any further.  
"Did he say for what reason?"

"Who can say, you will just have to find him."  
The curiosity in him started to bubble away once again, he couldn't fathom what Alfrid might want of him, but he was sure it wasn't going to be gratitude, for what he was owed.

Thanking the guard, Bard moved swiftly to dock his trusty barge, eager to find out what was in store for him. Knowing Alfrid, his light heartedness might be misplaced and he was most likely walking into a storm of false accusations and finger pointing... Time would tell.

....

Passing over bridges and walkways, Bard kept his eyes open for a glimpse of the raven like man, he was sure that he would be hiding away out of the cold, likely rubbing shoulders with the master and keeping his distance from the locals.

Whipping around corners, Bards feet made light work on the wet wooden rafters. His pace steady until he heard a kind voice calling to him from the market stools, he stopped to see a familiar face, warm and friendly and delighted to see him.

"Bard! Good to see you on this fine day, won't you come closer? Do you Have time to talk with this old man for a short while?" The owner of the voice beamed back at Bard, his weathered face glowing with his joy. Bard couldn’t help but shot him a toothy smile.

"I always have time for you Birnir." Bard gave a firm pat to the man’s cotton clad shoulder.

"Where are you rushing off to, your youngsters no doubt?"  
"Not this time, I am seeking Alfrid. He has called for me" Bard laughed outwardly, it sounded absurd even to him, though the older man didn’t share his amusement and slowly shook his head.

"What nonsense is he calling you up on now?" The stern look crossing the once kind features of Birnir spoke volumes on his personal thoughts of the man.

"I have no clue, finding Alfrid is proving difficult. Funny, when you want to find him he's nowhere to be seen. But when you don't wish to see him; which is most of the time, he is everywhere." It was true, Alfrid lurked around every corner, and his keen eye’s observing the ways of the master people. Nothing went unnoticed.

"That man is filled with a twisted sickness, you be weary of him. I know you like to push your luck with the likes of him and the master." Birnir warned.

"What do you know of him? I have been thinking and I am not sure I know much of his past." It felt like a strange time to ask, but Birnir’s advanced years may shine light on his character.

"What’s there to know, he's a snake. A bitter man whose vision has been poisoned by the past. I can't fully blame him, though we choose our paths in life. He has chosen his and it’s the wrong one. I tell you that."

“Poisoned by the past? What does that mean?” If Bards curiosity wasn’t pecking before, it certainly was now. “What do you know?”

“It’s not my place to say, but there is no excuse in this world that warrants his ways.” Birnir shuffled in place, visibly annoyed at the thought of the councillor. “You just watch out, you look after yourself and in turn your family”

“I’ll look after myself Birnir, don’t fret. I must be going, I don’t want to give him reason to dislike me further” Bard once again smiled down at his friendly neighbour.

…

Alfrid groaned, dragging his feet and fighting his legs which screamed in protest as he shuffled through the crowded town. The fever was set in and his skin burnt with the heat of his blood. His brow was wet with sweat and his hair clung to him in an unsightly manner. He had plans to find that irritating Bow-man, but his health forced him to head off home. It would have to wait for another day.

The voices around him drifted by in a haze, the sound muffled but unpleasantly loud. The words made no sense to him, they talked in tongues, and it further added to his confusion. Disorientated and tired, he just wanted to return home.

Another noise interrupted, louder than the rest. It was at least recognisable.

"There you are, I heard you wanted to see me?" Bard took in the image of the sickly man, still looking no better from when he had last seen him. Alfrid stayed silent, though he reached into a pocket to pull out a neatly folded letter. The parchment had an official seal on the back, red shiny wax with the Laketown sidual stamped into it.  
Bard reach for it tentatively, unsure what to make of it.

He turned it over in his hands, looking at the detail in the stamp, the neat writing on the front written in black ink.   
Alfrid sighed loudly at the slowness in which Bard observed the letter.   
"Well, you going to open it or not?" He snapped, impatient in his ill health.

Bard shot a quick look to the hunched man who gave him a withering look. running his thumb down the seam of the paper and under the seal, Bard unraveled it to see what was written. He felt Alfrid's eyes on him as he tried to take in the information.  
He was able to read, though being a son of a humble fisherman, it was a hard task to understand the well written and highly formal letter in his hands. Reading and writing not his strong point, for he had no need for it. 

"It says, buy the next moon you will be receiving more from the masters council" Alfrid interrupted, his tone heavily condescending.

"...Pardon me?" Bard almost stumbled on his words, never had he expected this outcome.

Alfrid closed his eyes tightly and drew out another irritated sigh, his head aching painfully. Now was not the time. "You heard me, now get out of my sight.”

Bard watched in stunned silence as Alfrid walked away, frozen in place with the letter still in his steady hands. His mind darted with the new information - was it a trick?   
Bard couldn't deny the small flutter of hope sitting in his belly, perhaps it was foolish of him to take Alfrid’s word, but the official looking letter strengthened the feeling of hope.

Bard perked up immediately, eyes sharp as he shoved the letter into his pocket. He needed to pry more information out of the retreating man.

"Wait" Bard ran to Alfrid's side once more, though the black clad man continued to walk, ignoring the others presence. He was so close to home and Bard would not get in his way. The wooden door to his house was visible, now all he needed was to reach it and slam it in the bargemans face.

"Why? I don't understand." Bard kept close to Alfrid's side, his head buzzing with questions. Even after saving his life, why would Alfrid go out of his way like this? It was uncharacteristic.

Alfrid grudgingly stopped in his tracks and turned to Bard. His movements slow and weak, he was about to reply but his vision dipped and his legs finally gave way from under him. If Bard hadn't been so quick to catch his fall he would have hit the ground, having no strength left in him to stand.   
Bard noticed now that Alfrid had been keen to return home, he had been close to reaching his door but his questions only hindered him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” Bard had a strong grip on Alfrid who managed to lift himself up enough so that he was no longer kneeling on the snow covered ground.   
He twisted his face, ready to curse the man but he soon swallowed his anger. “Just...Just get me home. I’ll explain everything.” Bard agreed, aiding Alfrid to the doorway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to quickly thank each and every one of you who has taken the time to read my little story. I wasn't expecting so much love and it’s a huge delight to know that it’s being enjoyed so much! To know that there are other fans out there too is very reassuring! 
> 
> Also a HUGE thank you to those of you who have left me comments, oh my I have never blushed so hard! x
> 
> This chapter might seem a little slow, I'm getting the ball rolling and I hope that I can write this with keeping Bard and Alfrid in character. x


	4. Breaking through

Chapter four

Straining his back in an effort to keep the dark haired man from collapsing to the floor, Bard hoisted his black clad arm up over his shoulder and moved them both into the darkened house, it's wooden rooms still reasonably warm from that mornings fire.  
He motioned Alfrid towards a bench that lay under a pretty harlequin window, its pains painted with subtle greens and blues, fitting for the Lake-town design.  
Alfrid made no effort to hold his own weight and flopped down onto it, grunting and sighing as he did so. He let go of breath of relief to finally have the burden of his weight off of his feet. 

Bard straightened his back and cast a worried eye down at the councillor who got himself comfy on the bench and it’s slightly padded surface.  
Alfrid twisted and rolled his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension. The tight musicals, tingeing and popping unpleasantly with the painful moment.   
His deep brown eyes soon rested on Bards and a look of despondent defeat crossed his features.

"Right, let me explain" Alfrid shuffled his position so that he could talk to his unwanted quest properly. “Like I have said, you'll be getting a pay increase by the next moon" He could see the questioning nature flickering in Bards eyes.

"And why is this? Is it to do with last night?" Bard failed to come up with any other explanation for the unforeseen gesture. 

"Of course it's to do with last night" Alfrid buried his face into his hands, his messy dark hair. "Listen; just see this as a merit of my appreciation." It felt forced to say such things, though it was the only way of delivering his plan successfully. 

"You didn't need to do this." Bard was observing the pale man, slumped over onto himself as if he had wilted completely. It was strange to be in his home once again, mostly after being kicked out a few hours prior.

"No, I didn't. But if it wasn't for you I would be dead." Alfrid lifted his head to make eye contact again. Bard looked sturdy in front of him, tall and golden with the light of the window illuminating him. It was one of the reasons Alfrid disliked him so much; he was infused with a natural grace. A grace that he himself could never achieve with his crooked form and bad genetics.

"Just, take the money. You have a family to care for so I doubt you're going to complain"

"No, I'm not complaining. Thank you, this will be a help to me... To us" Bard pulled the letter back out of his pocket, he looked it over to make sure it was still there, disbelief still holding his heart.   
Opening it once more, he skimmed over the black ink, the neat writing across the yellow paper was hard to read for the likes of him, though he knew enough to understand the basic information.

His dusty brown eyes caught a glimpse of a number. A sum of money. "What's this?" His eyes widened slightly at the sight. "Did you write this yourself? I think you have made a mistake...this is too much." Bard gestured the letter towards Alfrid who shot him a dirty look, greatly insulted at the question of his ability to correctly write an official letter.

"There's no mistake, just accept it and get out." Alfrid snapped, he didn't want to have to be the one to have to go into detail about the letter, it just gave Bard more of a reason to grow comfortable in his company.   
The strong bargeman let his hand fall to his side, letter fluttering in the silence.  
He was quiet in his shock, the amount of money was over double what he usually got in a new moon and it felt far too fortunate to be true. He wanted it to be true.   
His family would do well, he would be able to give his children an easier life. 

"Thank you." Bar almost whispered in his disbelief.

"Don't mention it." The tone in which Alfrid droned out, he really meant it.

"Alfrid!" Bard laughed his voice bright and filled with delight. "I would not have thought this of you!" With his enthusiasm Bard grinned, the feelings of the good news mixed into the unbelievable thought that Alfrid - The most coldest of the town would go so far to pay back his debt in such a way.

"You know nothing of me, so don’t think." Alfrid grumbled, and he wanted to keep it that way.

"I'm grateful for this, I will never forget this day" Weather it was that cursed perfect smile or the intense look of genuine joy directed at him that made him feel so uncomfortable, he could not tell. But for as long as he could remember, no one had ever smiled at him like that, no one in his life had looked at him with such a bright and heartfelt look.   
It shook him. He felt his secure barrier braking under that warm gaze and it worried him.   
How was he supposed to feel? What do people normally do when someone shows you such a smile? Alfrid only knew of snide remarks and insults, therefore he would throw them back constantly, knowing no better. 

"Just, get out." He felt his voice quiver in his throat. Making eye contact now was impossible now that his nerves were shot and his unintentional waver came as a surprise.  
Bard caught on, hearing the weakness in his reply and his expression turned to one of concern.

"You aren't well, at the very least let me finish the food that I had started. It will do you well to eat." Bard boldly walked over to the side where he had left the abandoned crockpot from that morning, still filled with diced vegetables.  
Alfrid watched helplessly as Bard placed it over the fire pit. 

He lay back on the bench, completely defeated.   
Closing his eyes to ease his aching head, Alfrid let Bard cook; swallowing his bitterness for the moment. His mind was far too clogged with the mixture of delirium and strange events to drive Bard away. 

He hadn't fixed Bards income out of gratitude, but as a way to break him down. The fool was smiling back at him, unknowing of his ill intentions. Soon the town will no longer hold the same empathy for him; they will start to grow curious. Envious at Bard for having the wealth that they needed to survive, it was this that Alfrid had conjured in his twisted mind. 

“Are you okay?” Bards voice cut through the sounds of bubbling broth and the crackle of the newly lit fire.  
He was concerned for Alfrid and had been since he had seen him being choked. Though the man would refuse any and all forms of closure. 

“Do I look like I’m okay? I feel like death warmed up.” Alfrid didn’t open his eyes, but furrowed his brow never the less at the question. 

“I didn’t mean your health” Bard muttered under his breath, he figured it would be best not to pry him further. It was a natural thing to ask how someone felt after being attacked so brutally, but Alfrid was too closed off that it proved to be a waste of time. Bard took back his question unsure why he had even asked it in the first place.

....

Three days had passed and Alfrid had gained enough strength to return to his duties.  
His legs felt stronger under his weight and finally his head was clear of the debilitating fever, though a heavy cough racked his lungs from time to time and his back was stiffer than ever.   
The new moon had come and it was time to see how the town would react to Bards new wealth.   
Alfrid was aware that it might take some time for the people to turn sour. At first they'll rejoice - joining in celebration of Bards good fortune. But that wouldn't last for long.   
People were predictable when it came to money, Alfrid knew it well.

He moved across the docks, his ebony fur cloak dripping off of his shoulders like ravens wings, shielding him from the persistent chill of winter. He was eager to see the fruits of his plan ripen, for Bard to see his precious friends In a new light. The thought of it filled his core with a malicious flicker of hope and intrigue.

Alfrid reached the bland steps leading up to the town hall where his master resided. The heavily decorated guards moved in unison to grant their councillor access, used to his coming and goings. He started to ascend the stairway but was caught off by a familiar voice calling him back down.

“Alfrid! Nice to see you back on your feet.” It was Braga, his usual plump form approaching to meet him. In silence, Alfrid joined his side, retreating from the stairs to start walking with Braga to the guard’s quarters; no doubt the older man was on his way.

 

“I hope you have news on the capture of those two idiots” Alfrid mumbled out in his common dialect. 

“That would be the reason I needed to speak with you. You see they have both regrettably fled the town.” Braga had somewhat braced himself for Alfrid's displeasure, though the black haired man didn’t stir quite like Braga had expected.

“I figured as much” Alfrid droned out. The thought of them running free worried him slightly. Who could say that they wouldn't try to return to finish what they had started. Though the likelihood was rather slim.

“I have sent out a search for them, they won't get far and the masters toll gate will keep them from returning unnoticed.” Alfrid gave a little nod towards the larger man. Reassured in his competency to do his job. But something caught his eye and his attention shifted immediately away from his co-worker and onto another subject entirely.  
Braga could see the seething look cross Alfrid’s face and turned to see what was drawing such an expression from him. It was rather obvious. Bard.

 

“I thought something smelt good” The light hearted tone in Braga’s voice was only fuel to the fire.   
“Shut it!” Alfrid shoved violently past Braga with his shoulder, something only he could get away with. He stormed towards the crowd gathering around the only one who knew how to provoke such unbridled anger in him.

“Get out of the way! Movie it!” Alfrid pushed and shoved his way to the front, paying no mind to the people who got in his way as they stumbled from his barrage of shoves.

“Alfrid! You’re just in time for breakfast!” Bard smiled, knowing well that the black haired man was furious at him. 

“What do you think you are doing?” Alfrid grinded out through his clenched teeth. Biting down heavily in his rage.  
Bard only smiled wider and answered by pointing a large wooden spoon towards the large pot at his side, expelling a small laugh. “Cooking” - To put it simply.  
Alfrid took in the sight before him. 

Once again Bard had come out on top, using his new wealth he was selflessly supplying food to the people of Laketown. Completely turning his plan on its head, it only made the man more adored.   
The dirty and weatherworn people all gathered around like hungry dogs. Awe warming deep in their hearts at this sight of their golden hero, never failing them in their hour of need. It was sickening to witness.

 

“There's enough for all, would you like to join us?” Bards smile. It burnt him. It mocked him and to be ridiculed out amongst the people he despised the most. He remained glaring silently back at the Good Samaritan. His black brown eyes sharp and locked onto those of Bards.   
Even Bard himself faltered under the intensity of his gaze and the powerful hatred they held for him.

 

Alfrid rotated his head to the side like he did often when he was irritated. His plump lips twitched as he tried to find words that suited his bitter mind, though even his poisonous tongue failed him. 

Bard watched Alfrid turn his back on him. Storming out of the cluster of silent and curious townsfolk who started to murmur amongst themselves after he had left.   
Casting his bright and golden eyes back towards his children, Bard shrugged with a smile. He wanted to make light of the scene so that his beloved son and daughters wouldn't worry themselves.

 

“Make sure everyone has their fill and no one goes without” He smiled lovingly at them before following after the retreating councillor. There was something more behind Alfred's anger and it involved him. 

Bard who was much more athletic reached Alfred's side in moments.  
"You're angry." The statement a little obvious but Bard didn't quite know what else to say to the seething man.  
Alfrid stopped dead in his tracks, fists clenched and his shoulders shaking with his anger. He analysed his surroundings. He needed to be away from the wretched people of Lake-town before he could speak his mind freely. So he carried on with heavy strides, Bard following him closely for an answer. 

When the number of people lessened he finally stopped, turning to Bard with fire in his eyes.  
"You're an idiot and a fool." He spat through his gritted teeth.

"Why would you waste your fortune on the likes of them?" Alfrid questioned, though Bard stayed silent, waiting for Alfrid to continue.

"They don't deserve it! Do you really think they would do the same for you? You don't owe them anything!" Alfrid felt his heart beating in his chest, heavy thumps driving his boiling blood around his frail body. 

"They are a part of the community Alfrid, part of my community and I will stand by them" Bards voice was steady, undeterred by Alfrid's hate. He was not at fault and whatever was making the black, clad man react so bitterly was beyond him.

"Community? Is that what you call it? Your loyalty to them is laughable." Alfrid looked away from Bard. He was finding it hard to hold back his temper.

"Alfrid, you are also a part of this community, whether you like it or not. I will stand by you as much as I stand by them" It was becoming clear that Alfrid's hate of people was a little stronger than anyone would have imagined. Alfrid laughed bitterly at Bards comment.

"I am no such thing; they have made that very clear." At this Bard outwardly sighed. Alfrid's corrupt views were starting to grow tiresome. He was in a position of power after all. There to help govern the people and all he could do was curse them.

"You’re the one who has actively isolated yourself from them and with your own hatred. If anyone is at fault it lies with you, not with them." Bard felt his cool demeanour crumbling. 

"I’m not the one to blame. But what would you know?" Alfrid slinked forward, his cold face twisted into a snarl. "You with your good looks and good fortune. You were always a part of their mob from the very start. You didn't even need to try." He looked Bard up and down with a disgusted expression.

"Where is this coming from Alfrid, why do you see yourself as some outsider?" Alfrid didn't reply, he just closed his eyes and breathed in heavily, Bard had finally started to break him down. He was questioning him, starting to peel away at his mind and through his own lack of power to hold back his anger he had let him in enough to get close.

"Forget it" Alfrid shoved pasted Bard. He needed to cool off quickly and gather his composer.   
He had spilled too much of his personal thoughts and the taller man was now more involved than ever.  
Striding away, Alfrid felt a strong hand wrap quickly around his wrist, holding him from walking away.

Looking at the unwanted hand on his arm, Alfrid sneered towards the bargeman who dared to hold him in place.  
"Get your hand off of me." Though Bard ignored the warning and pulled him to the side and into a hidden spot between two homes.   
As soon as Bard stopped dragging the weaker of them to the darkness, he blocked Alfrid's escape. Using his strong arm and his body as a barrier, forcing Alfrid to be sandwiched against a wall and his sturdy chest.

"I need answers Alfrid." Bards voice was slow and demanding, he knew better than to be pressing the councillor for information when he was so angry. But the sudden anger and hatred directed to the people he was feeding was concerning. “Why?”

Alfrid stayed silent, glaring back at the man who dared to forget his place and pin him down like some animal.

"Why?...You know full well why!"

"I don't believe I do." Bards stern expression didn't flicker, he was determined to unravel Alfrid. To find out what it was that made him the way he was.   
Alfrid snorted a fake laugh.

"Every day...every day I would see you on that pathetic little boat of yours.." Bard shook his head, confused at what relevance it had in context to his question.

"What has that got to do with anything? So its personal?" Bard gazed down at Alfrid who refused to make eye contact. His breath came out in short heavy bursts, his heart overruling his head and his emotions running away with him against better judgment. 

It had broken. His defence lay cracked at his feet and there was no way out.  
So like a cornered animal he acted quickly, darting down and under Bards arm. His attempt to get away was stopped quickly. Bard was far quicker than he’d ever been.   
Bard grabbed him once more and slammed him against the wall, unintentionally rough. Alfrid’s head collided with the wood and his messy hair fell over his face in the sudden movement. Bard had both his hands firmly on Alfrid's shoulders, making his escape impossible.   
Alfrid felt a flicker of helplessness pass through him.

"Yes it's personal!" Alfrid spat after a short pause. "I hate them and i hate you."  
"You're so perfect. You and your life, everything about you makes me sick" Bard could feel Alfrid’s panting breath on his face. The councillor’s statement made no difference to him, he knew of his hate. What he wanted to know was why. 

"My life isn't perfect Alfrid, or have you forgotten that I’ve been left a single father?"   
Alfrid's laughed, finally making eye contact. "Oh please, spare me from your sob story. At least you had someone to loose. I'm sure you enjoyed every last scrap of sympathy your 'community' gave you." Bard felt his composure slip away. The raw scarring of his lost love still deep and never healing.  
His knuckles made sharp contact with Alfrid's jaw line, it was a heavy blow that knocked the black haired mas face to the side with the force.

"Don't you start going down that road Alfrid. I’m warning you" Bard sneered into Alfrid's ear. The man’s head still turned from the blow. "You are sick, your mind is poisoned and you will see nothing but darkness. I pity you." Bard lent back, his anger and hurt still present in his eyes.  
Turning slowly to look at the once cool man in front of him, Alfrid could feel his lower lip was bleeding from the attack, it filled his mouth with signature metallic taste that only blood could deliver.

"Pity?" Alfrid's voice shook, his dark eyes partly hidden in his messy hair. 

"Don't you dare!" Alfrid suddenly snapped.   
Bard jolted backwards when the man in his grasp shoved him with all the force he could conjure up.   
"Why are you so keen to pry into my business? If my mind is as repulsive as you say it is, why are you interfering?" ~ Bard paused, watching the withering councillor use his sleeve to wipe away the blood from his split lip. He wanted to take back his violent outburst, but when it came to the subject of his late wife, he couldn’t hold himself back. 

"For some reason I thought that maybe I could help, but it seems you're not capable of seeing past your hatred"

"Help me? Don’t make me laugh. You're mocking me, you have always mocked me.” Bard shot Alfrid a look of surprise and disbelief at his outburst. He really thought that he was out to get him?

“I am not laughing at you Alfrid, I mean you no ill will.” Bard felt his emotions bubbling now, the anger subsiding quickly into something different. Again Alfrid laughed bitterly, unmoving in his ways.

"Don't think that i can't read you Bard. I'm not as dim as you might think." With a frustrated snort, Alfrid pushed past Bard once more only to be tackled again. 

"Would you stop this!" The very thought of being held back like this was starting to really unnerve him. Bard, for as much as he knew, wasn't overly violent despite having punched him moments before. He knew well that using Bard’s wife's death to hurt him was low and the blow to his bottom lip was understandable. But why was he so set in holding him in place?

"No. We are going to sort this out because I refuse to let you leave with those thoughts in your head." Alfrid's breath caught in his throat, fear rose in him when Bard gripped his face in his warm hands. His back was pressed flat against the wall, the slightly taller man’s hands clasped tightly on each side of his head.  
Alfrid's eyes were open wide; he couldn't hide the fear from Bard any longer. The memories of his recent attack still had his nerves rocked.

"Get off!" He felt pathetic now, but what could he do when the other was stronger than him?

"Listen closely" Bards brown eyes locked steadily with Alfrid's "whatever idea of me you have in your head, remove it. I am not mocking you." In contrast with his aggressive grip, Bards voice was calm and unwavering. Firm but kind.

The whole situation felt so wrong, Bard was much more of a worry then he had first imagined. His talents in manipulation was far beyond what he had given him credit for. No wonder the whole town adored him; he had all of them under his thumb. If only they could see him now. Holding him in place, forcing him to make eye contact. He hadn't thought the man possible of this abusive behaviour.   
Alfrid couldn't hold his gaze with those pricing brown orbs, even if it proved his weakness he couldn't look that bastard in the eye.

"Trying to save your skin now is pointless. You really think that I will fall for your tricks? I'm not like them, I see through your mask." Alfrid cursed himself, he felt so vulnerable without the guards to watch his back. Bard sighed at Alfrid, his paranoia stopping any sense for reaching him.   
The position they were both in was far from beneficial. If he let Alfrid go now, the greasy man would definitely use his privileges to make sure he had no chance of seeing another sunrise.

"Look at me!" Bard gave a light and solid jolt to get Alfrid's eyes back on his. It felt like holding a snake. Whilst you had its head immobilised there was no risk. But at some point the snake will have to be realised and its bite will be all too real.

"If I thought so little of you, do you really think I would have stopped those men from killing you? I jumped into the icy waters to keep you from drowning. Believe me when I say this, I will not risk my life so easily. My life is previous and I would not risk leaving my children fatherless for nothing?" Bard saw a tiny flicker of emotion in Alfrid, the subtle flash in his dark eyes. Bard could tell that he was starting to crack through the sickness blinding the man in his hands.

"You see Alfrid, maybe the world you see isn't quite as it would seem." He felt Alfrid's body easy up, admitting defeat. So Bard removed his gloved hands from his pale cheeks and stood back a little to give the man some space. 

Alfrid could feel the warm hands leave him, the cold of the air kissing his abandoned face. Trying his best, he tried to see the lies in what Bard had told him, but it was useless. Actions spoke louder than any word could and the sacrifice Bard had made that day spoke volumes.  
So what did it mean? What did Bard see in him that was worth risking his life for, even he himself didn't hold himself that worthy despite his need to survive. The need to get on in life was strong in him, but there was still a side to him that hated every last minute of it. Maybe it would have been best for him to be lying at the bottom of the lake. But for some reason, Bard felt differently.

His head spun with this new view on the man he hated so much. Now he had questions for Bard.

"Why?... Why would you bother? If what you have said is true, why would you risk everything to save me? I am nothing to you and you certainly don't owe me a thing." Alfrid's voice was shaking; he didn't know how to feel.

"I don't like to see life wasted in useless ways. What those people tried to do to you was wrong. They had no right." Bard cast his eyes over Alfrid, he still looked uncertain and sceptical. But the fact he wasn't rallying the guards was a positive thing.  
Alfrid wiped his lip once more, the blood still fresh from being stuck.

"Sounds like you would have done that for anyone in this town, perhaps you aren't as intelligent as I first thought" Bard raised his brows at the insult. Alfrid was back to his old self again.

"You thought I was intelligent? At the least not every opinion you had of me was bad. I'll take that as a complement" Bard laughed at the withering look from Alfrid he knew all too well. The councillor shook his head.

“A word of warning. From now on, you keep your distance.” Alfrid shimmied his cloak back onto his shoulders having had it slip from Bards hold on him. With an aggressive stride he walked past the taller man. His day hadn’t even started and it was enough to render his health at risk of regression.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” Bard watched the hunched man stop in his tracks, turning around with a renewed look of anger and bewilderment written on his face.

“You'll hate me for this, but I refuse to turn away now. I think it would be best if you had someone to help you in your sickness.”  
Alfrid remained still. He couldn't figure out if Bard was just stubbornly arrogant or if he was really just out of his mind. Judging from what he knew, it might be the case - who else would fight so hard against him.  
Bard was never one to follow orders blindly. But to refuse and belittle a member of the master’s council… what possible outcome did he hope to achieve? To imply that a sickness lay on his mind was gravely insulting enough and it hurt him to know that there was a small truth to Bards statement, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

“Sickness? I have no sickness! The only ailment I have is you! You push and pry even when it doesn't hold any worth to you. What are you trying to accomplish?” Bard was blind to Alfred's aggression and looked at him like he would his children. A kind and well-meaning expression of his good intention. He didn't know what really lay beneath Alfrid's dark paranoia or what had caused it in the first place. But it was boldly evident that it had taken a hold of him with its corrosive tendrils; spreading and claiming his mind and body to an extent that no one could get close enough to aid him. 

"I suppose you could say that I feel a sense of duty. Beside what harm is there in it?" Bard let a cocky smile creep across his handsome face. "Unless you’re hiding something? Perhaps that's why you’re so apprehensive." Bard mused, his thought that maybe he could convince Alfrid by playing his cards right. It may have been a little childish to use such juvenile tactics, but if it prompted Alfrid into trying to prove him wrong. Then did it matter?

"There’s nothing for me to hide and no dirt for you to rub in my face. You’re only wasting your time." The councillor scrunched his nose up in his response. 

“Good! Then there’s no reason for you to turn me away.” Bard grinned, knowing it would infuriate him. He was going to make it his job to heal Alfrid's broken mind. If not for him, but for the people of Lake-town. 

“FINE! Do what you want. I’m growing tired of this.” Alfrid stormed away in a thoroughly bad mood. For the first time in his life he had failed to drive someone away. Bard on the other hand watched Alfrid disappear. He couldn't hold back the smirk on his face, he would most likely end up driving the other mad with his attempts to aid him, but it somehow felt right to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I apologies for any mistakes) ~ I'm heavily dyslexic
> 
> [Important question] (Leave me a comment on what you would like)
> 
> I would very much like to know If any of you would feel uncomfortable with sexual situations.   
> At some point it will be apart of the story and I can ether go into detail, or if its a concern.   
> Section the love making into a part where you can skip it if it offends. (I'll probably do this)
> 
> Sample
> 
> \---------------{Sexual situation -}--------------- [Skip if need be]
> 
> Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff.  
> Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff.  
> Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff.  
> Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff. Sexy stuff.
> 
> \---------------{End of sexy stuff}--------------- [Resume]
> 
>  
> 
> I would again like to thank you all for your support! Without you I doubt I would continue.  
> For those kind hearts who have offered to bata read my chapters, please feel free to get in contact!
> 
> My Google-plus (Stumpyrainbow@googlemail.com)  
> Or Skype me (Mariemagpie)
> 
> Big thanks the Kukkii for checking my spelling. <3


	5. Blackmail

Alfrid was hunched over a large, cumbersome, leatherbound book. He gripped his quill, a long black feather with his pale fingers. He dipped the sharp tip of the quill into a small pot of deep black ink every so often. It scratched over the paper skilfully, leaving neat and well thought out marks that bled into the stark whiteness of the page.

The room itself was almost as black as the ink on Alfrid's quill, but his vision was aided by an oil lamp. It flickered its dull light feebly onto the desk.  
The task he was left with was stocktaking, a simple but tedious job. Counting what came in and out of the decrepit town, it was time-consuming and being constantly bent over the aging book only stiffened his back further.

Like always, Alfrid marked down the Master’s brandy. Each passing moon a neighboring settlement would trade their fine alcohol with the Master as a goodwill offering. In return, Laketown would supply a healthy amount of fish to feed the townspeople of afar. Protein was important and the settlement welcomed the load with great gratitude.  
The two amber bottles lay on the desks surface, its glass as finely crafted as the alcoholic liquid inside. 

Alfrid dipped his quill once more, marking down a single bottle of brandy in the book.  
It was his job to make sure that the kind offerings went straight to the Master and was recorded properly, though it was also his job to bathe the repulsive fat man and brush his yellow rotting teeth. So Alfrid took one as the payment that he so obviously deserved; if only in his opinion, it really wasn't stealing.

He would take the bottle and decant it into a flask that he kept at his hip, hidden away from prying eyes. When his back and arms started to hurt too much, he would take a long drink to dull his ailments and calm the tight burning of his twisted muscles.  
For as long as he could tell, he had always suffered from a weakness - it affected his upper body and it left him hunched over and unable to lift his arms. Unfortunately, it was only one of the illnesses that flaunted his frail state to the world.

Whilst he sat in the darkness, his mind drifted to the strenuous conversation with Bard that morning.  
The irritating man had gotten his way once again and now Alfrid had agreed in his fury to let him worm his way into his life. Though, of course, he had no intention of keeping his word.

He will make sure that when he traveled to his home in the dead of night, he would dart around in shadows so as to not to be seen. If he stayed out of sight, then Bard would have no chance to get to him and become close to interrogating him once more.  
Still, he failed to understand the man's intentions. Healing his sick mind?  
His demons were his own, he kept them locked away so that they couldn't devour him further.  
They rotted his insides and tore him apart. Was that what Bard wanted? To see him crumble under his own imperfections?

Alfrid ran his tongue over his lower lip in thought. A sudden sting and the taste of iron filled his mouth.  
Bard had struck him in the face. He was used to such abuse, but never had he thought that the golden and flawless man was capable of such violent acts. It had surprised him and the moment when he was trapped between Bards strong torso and the frigid wall had honestly scared him. At that moment he knew just how much stronger the other man was and a small bit taller, too.  
For a long time he hadn't felt so defenseless, apart from the attack a few nights ago that had brought them together.  
That had truly been something to be scared about. The desperate need for air in his burning lungs and the tight sharp wire around his neck. 

For the briefest moments, as he was plugged into the icy waters, he had wanted the embrace of death. Wanted to lie there, at the bottom of the lake, feeling his worthless life slipping away from him. The cold against his skin had faded away until it almost felt like he was warm. The pain wasn't so overwhelming either.  
By the time he caught sight of Bard reaching for him, he already made the choice to give up the fight.  
When he next opened his eyes to find himself in Bards welcoming home, it had almost disappointed him that he had opened them at all.

His saviour.

Bard was willing to go so far to try to untie his tangled mind and bear the brunt of his unrelenting fight to keep him away? It didn't make much sense, though neither was the idea of anyone jumping into a lake of ice to save him from death. 

Alfrid looked at his hands, deep in thought.  
His fingers were thin and his skin looked ghostly in the gloom of the cluttered room. Whatever Bard had planned for him, he was sure that he wouldn't like it.

 

Alfrid's concentration broke with the intrusion of foreign and far off voices. The low tones of speech were drifting through the wooden structure of the town hall and its many rooms, reaching far back to the room he resided in.  
Not many people would be allowed into the halls unless it was an official matter and these matters would almost always be organised through himself.  
It spiked his interest as to why there were discussions taking place without his knowledge, for the only people present should be the Master and himself.

He arose from his desk, leaving behind the worn out book. In his effort, the tort muscles in his back knotted together painfully with his movement, causing him to grumble and curse. As soon as he was loose enough to continue, he followed the sounds of his Master’s voice and that of another.

Alfrid passed through the impressive doorway leading to the Master's desk. The ginger man’s repulsive figure was visible and he was accompanied by a guard who seemed to be holding a young boy in his grasp.

 

“Just like your father, you insist to be a burden to us all” The Master’s words fell out of his unhygienic mouth like wet clumps of mud. His tone was aggravated and bitter.  
Alfrid broke out into a malicious smile at the sight, it was indeed Bard’s son, Bain at the guards side. So making himself known, he strutted into the room, moving his head like a snake with cruel amusement. 

“He’s from bad stock sire. Cursed from the start.”

The young boy turned to see Alfrid approaching. He remained silent in his position, though he wore a look of repressed anger at the hurtful statement against his father.

“Yes quite!” The Master fumbled. “This boy was caught defacing the property of Laketown. A rebellious and unjustifiable act I might say!” 

In other words, Bain had been found sitting atop of the wooden sculpture of the Laketown’s Master; which was weathered from years of standing in the elements and its paint had seen better days.  
Bain had in truth been using the statue to elevate him high enough to seek out his sisters in the crowded markets, though the guards had taken the innocent act as a defiant show of disrespect.

“I think some hard labor will teach you that your actions will have consequences. If only your insubordinate father had raised you better. Alfrid! Take the boy with you and make sure he pulls his weight. Oh, and keep a close eye on him, I don’t want to see that he has taken anything that doesn't belong to him.” The ginger man scowled at the boy in front of him, a look of warning on his hefty face.

Alfrid, despite the overwhelming feeling of exasperation at the the idea of babysitting, dipped his head to the Master. Gripping the fabric of Bains shoulder carelessly, he yanked the boy to his side and dragged him back into the room he had been stocktaking moments before.  
Alfrid shoved Bain through the doorway and watched without remorse as he tumbled to his knees. He then used the side of his foot to slide a wooden bucket towards him. It had a grubby cloth hanging over its side and the sudden movement of tossing it caused its dirty black water to splash upon the floor.

“Get to it.” Alfrid snapped, fully displeased with the intrusion to his day. 

Bain, like his father, was smart enough to keep his mouth closed when it was necessary. But his blue eyes screamed at the ungracious man he was forced to work with. Picking up the fraying cloth, he started to scrub at the floor.

Alfrid mooched over to his neglected desk. He reached for the flask at his hip, pulling it free.  
The fact that Bain was present didn’t concern him in the slightest, he figured the boy wouldn't be too aware of what he was doing anyway and if he did - well, it didn’t matter.  
So he picked up one of the beautiful bottles, its contents catching the light ever so slightly.  
It was a beautiful colour and was proof of its fine quality.  
He slowly decanted what he could into the flask, making sure not to spill any of the expensive liquid. 

Bain watched Alfrid from the corner of his eye. The man attached the flask to his hip once more and then raised the bottle to his lips, partaking in its medicinal purpose.  
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and the immediate pain in his split lip made him wince.  
Casting a grumpy glance at Bain, he spotted a knowing look on his young face. Alfrid sighed.

“What.” His voice croaked with the effects of the alcohol.

“It’s just that my Da said that you were probably always drunk” Bains tone was cheeky and mocking. 

“Did he now? ” Alfrid scrunched his nose up in a nonchalant sneer before spitting onto the floor just in front of Bain. “Clean it up!” 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Bard was comfortable in the knowledge that his day had come to an end, the whole ordeal that morning had emotionally worn him down and he wanted nothing more than to sit by the fire and enjoy the company of his dozing children.  
He opened the front door whirly, only to be tackled by his only son who gripped on tightly around his waist.

"DA!" 

"Bain, you should be asleep by now" Bard let a warm laugh out at his son's actions. He planted a kiss to the top of his boy’s head and relished the feeling of his soft hair.

"Da, I got into trouble today. They made me clean the floors. Look!" Bain outstretched his small hands to his father. They had little blisters on them from the hard labor, so Bard took the hands and planted a kiss on them, too.

"Who made you clean their floors? And what did you do to deserve punishment?" Bard was as calm and collected as usual, his faith in his son out weighed anyone in the town who might think otherwise.

"I was looking for Sigrid and Tilda, so I climbed on top of the statute. The guards caught me so I had to scrub the floors in the Town hall" Bain was brave so he didn't feel the need to show his sorrow. 

"I'm sorry" Showing as much support as he could, Bard wrapped his son up into a tight hug.  
He knew well what the Master and his guards were like and it hurt to know that his son had been a victim of the bastard’s strict rule.

"I think you're right, Da. That councillor’s a drunk." Bain’s words were muffled in his father's chest, still being held in a warm embrace.  
Bard raised an eyebrow at the statement. So Bain had been forced to work with Alfrid of all people.

"I hope he wasn't too hard on you. Why do you think he’s a drunk?" The questioned niggled at him. He had once told Bain jokingly that the angry councillor would most likely drink and that alcohol brought out the bad in people. Perhaps it had been a way to explain to his children why there were such people in the world. 

"Well, he had two bottles of alcohol on his desk. He poured some into a flask that he keeps at his side." Bain looked up at his father. “He also drank straight from the bottle, even I know that’s bad manners” Bard laughed heartily at his son’s thought pattern. Although, he deemed the new information intriguing.

“Two bottles you say? Well, that’s a little excessive, isn’t it?” He joked.

“You should have seen them, they looked beautiful, unlike the ones you see in the inn.” Bain exclaimed, his memory of the finely crafted glass bottles had stuck with him.  
Bard took a moment to think. He was a porter and a trader by profession, set on different journeys for different tasks. There was a settlement that he and the other men would travel to once in a blue moon with fish and other trade goods. In return, the skilled allies would pass fabrics and two bottles of fine brandy to them.

All items would be accounted for at the start and end of the process which was a way of making sure nothing went astray and into the ownership of a bargeman.  
Of course, Alfrid was the one in Laketown who would take the fine goods away to be distributed and precisely documented. The thought occurred to him that maybe the items were not as safe from theft as he would have thought. 

Bard wondered if it really was possible that the councillor was helping himself to the expensive alcohol behind the Master’s back.  
Perhaps it was just one of his privileges of his position and was taken as payment, though from the looks of it, Alfrid wasn’t that much better off than some of the guards.  
If he was entitled to lavish brandy, then he would almost certainly be entitled to better food. From his experience of Alfrid’s home, despite the berries, he didn’t feel like he fit the category.

It played on his mind time after time, repeating the questions that plagued him day after day. Was the man really all that bad? From what he could tell, he was rotten to the core so stealing wouldn’t be much of a surprise. Still, there had to be more behind his behaviour.  
Bard looked down at his son; he would have to get his own back on the bastard for Bain’s sake.

 

~~~~~~~~~

A new day was upon the people of Laketown and Alfrid was one of the first to stir.  
His tasks needed attending to before the Master awoke and called out for his breakfast and brandy.  
Alfrid groggily shuffled through his home and towards the front door, His eyes were still heavy with sleep. The warm, leather boots he pulled onto his feet assured that he was ready to head out, into the winter air.  
But whilst he made the sluggish movement to leave, a rustle drew his attention back to his feet.  
There lay a scrap of paper; it had been slipped under his door during the night.  
Alfrid picked it up with a small amount of curiosity. On it, in scruffy writing, there was a short but troubling message.

~ I have valuable information about two subjects that concern you. Meet me at the docks. Come alone ~

Alfrid’s heart rate rose at the sight of the words. Someone from the town had information on Georg and his friend; the very people who had choked him and left him for dead. For as much as he was concerned, Bard was the only one who had witnessed the attack… unless this sudden piece of news was connected to the attacker’s friends?  
Whatever it was, it filled him with cold dread.  
What if it was a ploy to lure him out of sight, though the docks were hardly empty of people? He would be safe in the sight of the locals, despite their hatred of him.

He gathered his thoughts; it would be a weight off of his mind if the information led to the men being hung. Every night he would wake with a start, a dark, oppressing fear would creep over him and bind his mind in paranoia. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but the event had changed him.  
His nights were filled with dreams of black water that pulled him deeper and deeper into the abyss. It even had led him to keep a beautiful and sharp knife by his bed.  
It was one that was gifted to the Master a long time ago; its purpose was to pry open letters and documents, though its stunning and finely crafted blade had been passed to Alfrid. The Master, who deemed himself above such things as paperwork had neglected it, so Alfrid had claimed it as a tool to aid him in his work. For now, he would keep it close, keep it so that he could fend off unwanted attackers, if it came to it. 

Alfrid crumpled the piece of paper in his hands and discarded it onto the floor where he had found it.  
Passing through to his bedroom once more, he reached for the knife and tucked it away in his belt for self-protection. Before he left, he looked towards his unmade bed - on it laid a very content and warm looking cat. Its fur was a dusty black and sucked up in all directions. matching Alfrid’s hair perfectly.  
He leant down and ran a hand over her chubby belly; she reacted by rolling over and releasing a drawn out purr, though her eyes remained closed in her bliss.  
Alfrid breathed deeply; whatever this mysterious person had to say, he hoped that it would bring him solace. 

The simple walk to the docks felt like a heavy and terrifying experience, his hand gripped to his blade hidden in his coat in anticipation and he casted his deep brown eyes on every local that crossed his path with a bitter and paranoid glance.

But in one single moment his fears fell away from him and all he was left with was anger and frustration at what he saw.  
“Why am I surprised?” Alfrid stormed up to Bard, who once again had a very irritating and charming smile on his face.  
“Well, what is it? What do you know of Georg and his friend?” Alfrid crossed his arms, feeling weary. His fear had drained a good amount of energy from him.

Bard looked to Alfrid with a fake innocence.  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about Alfrid; I’ve not seen hide nor hair of them.”

Alfrid’s lips quivered and his eyes turned black with his rage, Bard was playing with him now, belittling him ever so successfully.

“You mean to tell me you lured me to you with false claims of information? Are you aware of the implications of your actions?” Bard watched Alfrid fume in front of his very eyes. He had indeed given Alfrid the false idea that there was someone in the town with the knowledge on the whereabouts of the two men who had almost ended his life. His intentions were to have him meet him as well as getting some revenge; although, it might have been a little cruel to use a traumatic event to scare him out of his hole. But he had his reasons after all.

“No Alfrid, I do have information. Not on Georg mind you, but on a little issue that has come to my attention” Alfrid caught the mischievous glint it the other’s eyes and it pushed him over the edge; the man was mocking him now.

“If it’s not to do with my attackers, then I don’t care, because I’m very busy” In typical fashion, Alfrid spun on his heel and started to skulk away.

“I think you will care Alfrid, or maybe Braga will, after all stealing from the Master is definitely something he’ll want to know about.” Bard’s voice was chipper and it stopped Alfrid in his tracks.  
He turned slowly, unsure of what Bard had up his sleeve.

“What are you on about?” He bared his teeth at the handsome man who refused to let things die.  
“I know about the bottles of brandy, I mean I’m one of the many who helps to ship it from the east. Now, I can’t quite remember, but I think they are goodwill offerings to the Master. Tell me, how come they are being drunk by his servant?” Bard with all his nimble speed, rushed up to Alfrid and with a swift and precise movement, flipped his coat out of the way and grabbed the flask, hidden within.

“Just like Bain said” Bard shook the flask, its liquid contents sloshed around noisily. Alfrid remained silent; the boy had informed his father of the alcohol after all.  
“That’s a small payment for my hard work, you have no evidence on me apart from that insubordinate son of yours” Alfrid snatched back the flask and hid it deep within his coat once more.

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll let Braga know so that your documents can be checked. If they are in order, then what will be the harm?” Bard smiled at Alfrid whose eyes started to show the signs of panic and dread crept up his spine.

“I never had you down for the type to blackmail. But I never thought you would strike me in the face and delude me about my attackers. Fine, so be it. What do you want from me? Money?” Alfrid’s stomach churned with anxiety, the surprisingly cruel man had full power over him now and he was at his mercy. If the Master were to find out that all this time, he had been helping himself to some of the donations, it would be the end of him and his position above the locals. He’ll have to play along with Bard’s little game.

“Money? No, I already get enough of that now.” Bard grinned, fully enjoying the situation.  
“Maybe I should ask for something less valuable? Your time, perhaps?” Bard mused at Alfrid’s growing concern. 

“What would you want with my time? I hardly have enough of it for myself” It was true, his days would be spent doing paperwork along with the horrendous tasks to aid his superior. What little time he had, it would be hard to share with Bard.

“Well, if you’re working from sunrise to sunset. I suppose your time sleeping will just have to be cut short then.” Bard watched Alfrid in pure amusement. He started to open and close his mouth, failing to voice the words in his mind.

“Ah, I could have phrased it a little better” Bard started to laugh at his mistake.

“What I meant was I’ll want your time, so that you can tutor me in reading and writing.” Alfrid looked towards the sky with closed eyes, his life was taking a turn for the worse.

"Don't be ridiculous! I know you can read!" Alfrid snapped. The bargeman had slipped a decently written note under his door and now he was claiming that he needed schooling? It was absurd. "The letter, for one, proves that you are full of lies!" He sparked, finding it hard to keep his voice down and drawing a few curious glances towards them.

"Show a man enough coin, Alfrid, and he will write whatever you want to say." The one with the privilege of writing the letter was an elderly man on the outskirts of the town, people would seek him out and trade him coin or equivalent goods for his skills in reading and writing.  
Bard was able to read at a surprisingly competent level, but needed assistance from time to time. But with Alfrid's help, he would polish up his skills and pass his knowledge onto his children.

"Then get him to school you, you're getting enough coin to pay him. I'll repeat myself, I don't have the time to attend to your needs!" Alfrid knew with certainty that Bard's mind was set on him. The whole scenario was a sick plan for the bargeman to root himself closer and unfold everything that held him together. But what could be done? He had been foolish to give Bard, - or moreover, Bard’s offspring - the ammo that he needed. Now, all he could do was to kneel down before him and hope that he will have mercy. 

"Forget it, I know your answer. I will come to your home after I am finished with my duties." The very idea of tutoring Bard in his child-infested dwellings was mind-numbing to think about. But it was a far better place to be then to suffer Bard in his own home once more. 

“I don’t want you and your noxious personality anywhere near my children. You will tutor me in your own home. You have the equipment after all.” Bard was right about the abundance of materials that would come of great use to him and his endeavour to learn. Alfrid had books strewn across his living room and Bard was eager to know what subjects inspired the councillor.

Frustrated by the other’s immovable mindset, Alfrid had only one option and that was to yield to his needs and demands, however maddening or detrimental it might be to his wellbeing.  
“You're not going to stop until nothing of me remains, are you? Fine, just….Just come after dark.” Alfrid felt his words drain from him; he had lost every power over Bard and he knew it would prove to be his downfall. 

“Alfrid, has anyone ever informed you that you're just a little bit too dramatic?.” Bard teased .

“Don’t keep me waiting” With these final words, Alfrid walked away, leaving Bard to soak up his victory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry that this took me so long to post!  
> I'm hoping in the upcoming chapters we will see some real development after this one ~ <3  
> Thank you for your support and a huge thank you goes to my friend Variant / Giligan_Grapes!
> 
> Ah its slow but I promise we will see some love soon!!!  
> Thank you for all of your support and for sticking with me for so long! x


	6. Double the trouble

Alfrid's duties unraveled in the same tedious and monotonous regularity that greeted him day after day. He would care for the Master, doing everything from serving him breakfast to running his bath and scrubbing his revolting aging back. When the ‘glamorous’ tasks had been completed, he would stain his hands with ink and skulk around in the bitterness of winter with his eyes cast upon the plain townspeople and their equally as plain routines, making sure there was nothing awry. 

 

The sun was sinking behind the snowcapped mountains and the sky burnt with a passionate orange which seemed to be a warning of things to come.  
Alfrid was to return to his quiet home, there he would collapse into his comfortable bed, neglecting dinner. But his bed would have to wait, for now Bard would be his student.  
Alfrid was brimming with apprehension at the very thought of Bard using the brandy as a way to dismantle his broken mind. The man hadn’t shown anything but increasing interest in his well-being since their icy plunge.  
If he thought that Alfrid would fall for his masquerade about learning to read, then he was very wrong. Would he even bother to keep up the charade of his plan or would he get his claws into him and never let go? 

Whatever the outcome, it would force him into an uncomfortable position: being exposed and vulnerable to the barge man. Perhaps all he could do was to swallow any pride that he had and seek out mercy in the older man. Some secrets were to be kept locked away for good and the key destroyed. 

Alfrid reluctantly left the town hall and set off in the direction of his home. The darkness setting in over the town would never have bothered him in the past, but now every subtle sound and movement was enough to elevate his heartbeat. He deemed himself more pathetic than he had ever been prior to the brutal attack.  
The shiny cold blade was tucked into his belt. If Georg returned, he would make sure to spill his rotten blood for making him feel so helpless.

In time, Alfrid reached his door, having seen nobody on his expedition apart from the guards posted outside of the Town Hall. He cursed the Master; at least the bastard could sleep easy in the knowledge that his life was protected, unlike his own.  
Alfrid was greeted to a dark and empty home, its rooms in deep shadow. His first priority was to light the small lanterns that hung from the splintering rafters.  
They flickered their sickly light down into the living room and soon Alfrid moved to light the fire, its heat radiating out and replacing the oppressive chill with a cosy warmth.  
He stayed, warming his hands, absorbing as much of the valuable heat as his short time warranted before he was forced to endure the company of Bard. 

But before long, there was a knock at the door and it was as bold and forward as its owner.  
Alfrid rose from his position at the fire to greet his new student. The overused muscles in his shoulders cried in pain when he moved, slowing him down and urging another round of knocks.  
Alfrid defeatedly opened the door, neglecting to offer a verbal greeting towards the handsome man who stood behind it.

However, Bard didn’t need an invitation, he walked past Alfrid and into the warm home as if it was his own. He looked around, taking in as much information as he could.  
“Are you here to learn or are you just going to riffle through my belongings?” Alfrid’s voice cut through, into Bard’s concentration, making him turn to acknowledge him

“Of course. But first I need to feel comfortable in my surroundings.” Bard smiled towards the black clad councillor who looked a little worn out after his irksome day. 

“Did you not have enough time to do so during your last two invasions?” Alfrid declared, feeling powerless to Bard’s curious ways. The good looking intruder moved his attention onto a row of neatly organised books. He took his time examining the spines, running a finger along the leather to aid him. The books ranged from practical herbs to historical tales, documented in days long forgotten.

“Forget about those books, I have something that will benefit you more than any of those subjects ever will.” Alfrid walked towards a hardy wooden table. On its surface lay blank sheets of parchment and a single quill, along with other unrelated items scattered around untidily. Before sitting, Alfrid swiped the unwanted clutter to the side with a careless push of his arm to make space.

Bard went to join Alfrid who plucked the quill from the inkwell and commenced the task of jotting down small passages for Bard to use in his studies. 

The bargeman took in the way that Alfrid used every stroke of the quill to leave a beautiful mark, his writing was impeccably neat. If anything positive could be said about him, it was that he was indeed gifted, hence it could be seen why the Master had chosen him to be his councillor.  
When he finished, he slid the parchment over to Bard who looked over it with great interest.

"These are laws?" Bard questioned, his tone held his slight confusion at the very unsubtle and ominous lines.

"Like I have stated, it will do you well to learn them. Assuming from your attitude you haven't so far." Alfrid lent over, his chin resting on the back of his hand, gesturing to a few lines of text.  
"You'll be copying these, I made sure that they will be relatable to you." Alfrid's toxic tongue reflected his current feelings towards his student. If he was going to be forced to train the bargeman, then he would work it in his favour. 

The laws written were simple but cutting jabs, it held everything that Alfrid wanted to get across to Bard.

* You must show respect and loyalty to the Master and his Council at all times.

* You must obey orders from the Master and his Council or be arrested, put on trial, and suffer the consequences.

* The Master establishes who is included in his Council; if the Master can no longer serve the duties of his post, the Council fills up his seat.

* Threatening the Master or his Council is subject to arrest and trial. Punishments range from imprisonment to death, depending on the severity of the crime.

And finally: 

* Those who transport goods on water, thus constantly mingle between settlements, are not granted any word in the politics of Laketown.

"I believe these will be simple enough for you to understand." Bard could feel the patronising words stabbing him between the eyes. 

“I see. This last one, that would of course be there for people like myself?” Bard knew well that Alfrid wanted to beat him down, to tie him up with his laws and stop him from upsetting the status of his organised world.

“They are there for you to copy Bard, not for you to question. The same applies to your worthless little friends.” Alfrid forced the quill into Bard’s hand and slipped some fresh parchment towards him. “Copy them down”.

“I find it curious that you find us so worthless; after all, without us, you wouldn't be sipping on fine brandy.” Bard muttered out his reply, fully expecting Alfred's comeback. In his wisdom he was right. Alfrid glared daggers at him.

 

“I have the right to speak for the people who have even lesser rights than me. I won’t stay silent when they suffer at the hands of such laws” It was maybe a little foolish to start playing on the councillors nerves, but his ignorance and contempt for his friends hurt him deeply.

 

“These people you speak of are worthless, they are content in their ways. Rights are earnt and they show no signs of deserving them. They are a burden on the town and we would all do better without them. But you fail to give credit to the people who allow them to live.” Alfred's eyes turned dark, his inner demons surfacing and scratching at his mind once more.

 

“We are born equal Alfrid, you might not be able to see it.” Bard was certain he could feel the hostile aura around the weaker man. 

“Equal? I’m damned if you really believed that. Everyone's aware of your ancestry and I can see it in your eyes. You are what is left of Dale’s rulers after all, so you really think you can pull that one on me? That you can claim you are as equal as the scum that spend their days pulling fish from the water? - But now that I think about it… I suppose you’re right. You're just the same as them.”

 

Alfrid set his troubled eyes on Bard, watching to see if he would react in the way he hoped he would. The man was infuriating and the knowledge that his ancestors were better than his own was yet another problem he held against him. If Bard were to be injured by his words, it would be a small victory on his behalf.

Bard did answer, but it was as mild and reasonable as someone could respond with to such an insult.  
“Correct, noble blood or not, we are all at the mercy of life’s whim. King, beggar, or councillor.” Whether his insult inflicted any heartache, it wasn't to be shown. 

“Don’t try to imply that we are equals, I rather have drowned then to be level with you.” The dull sensation of a growing headache behind his brow reminded Alfrid of the time. He would be asleep by now.  
Desperately he needed a swig of brandy to help his ravaged muscles, but with Bard at his side there was no chance of relief. It was the stollen liquid that had led him to the curious role of a teacher.  
He rolled his shoulders in hopes of working them into some angle of comfort.  
Bard observed the movement with some thought, it was clear as day the younger of them was suffering somewhat.

 

"You’re a little tightly wound up. I believe perhaps you’re working too hard Alfrid. You should find a companion to help work out that frustration." The rather rude comment about ‘his uptight’ nature took him by surprise.  
The boldness of the accusation of his needs made him twist jaggedly in his seat to offer a shocked and angered expression towards Bard. The movement ripped at his shoulders and it forced him to flinch ever so slightly.  
But the pain didn’t hold back his startled expression, his mouth open almost as wide as his eyes. He caught himself and sneered an almost wolf-like snarl at the oldest. The bargeman was visibly pleased with Alfrid’s reaction. 

“Coming from someone like you Bard? You’re in no position to pass judgment. At the end of the day, you are one of the most loved in this town and yet you still can’t find yourself a partner. People will start to talk of your interests.” Bard was still smiling to himself, finding the younger very amusing in his flustered rage.  
He had hoped to see the man’s expressive eyes light up at the insult and he was rewarded. And now the councillor was answering back with his own remarks about Bard’s lifestyle.

“People will always talk, Alfrid. There are those who are rather adamant that you do much more for the Master then what is asked of you.” The rumours were very much alive in Laketown and it was a uniting joke for the people who fell victim to the Master’s rule. It lifted their spirits to spread the rather vulgar accusations. 

“Yes, I’m aware of these rumours. Ever since I was made councillor in my youth, they have reached my ears, day after day by the mouths of cowards. It grows tiresome after a time. They used to be more effective when I was younger but you learn to overcome the hate around you.” Alfrid breathed in so to keep calm.  
“So say whatever you like, it’s only slander used by those who have no power. It means nothing to me anymore. So tell me, is that the best you can do?” Alfrid turned up the side of his top lip at the bitter taste that the comment had left. He’d had been recruited a long time ago and had been far more naive back then to the politics of the citizens. The people of Laketown took great joy in mocking the Master, using him as their ammo.

"I'm glad to hear that you have not been always deaf to the voice of those around you, even if you were only concerned about your ego." Bards’ reply came as an added insult to the paranoid man.

“Copy the text or leave” It was an empty threat when Bard was the one in charge of their little meeting, but Alfrid’s officious personality was hard to break and it again reared its ugly head.

Bard pacified himself enough to do what he was told and put quill to parchment in an effort to copy the insipid laws of Laketown. But before the nib had a chance to bleed its black blood onto the paper, a peculiar sound emanated from the darkness of Alfrid’s bedroom, drawing Bard’s attention to the empty area.

“What was that?” Bard’s hand hovered over the neglected regulations and kept his chocolate eyes in the direction of the sound.

“…Nothing” However Alfrid’s reply was delayed and full of secrecy, an inept attempt to find an alibi for the mysterious sound. It was enough the attract Bard’s inquisitiveness and he turned back with a knowing grin on his face.

“Was that a cat I just heard?” As an answer to his question, a sufficiently well-nourished feline emerged from the bedroom and scurried her way towards the two. She added small bounces to her steps when she caught sight of not just her owner, but a gentle looking man alongside him.  
She let out a chirrup as a greeting.  
Bard was quick to stand, bending down to scoop the friendly creature into his arms.  
“Alfrid! You do have a friend!” The earnest laugh escaped him. The very thought of someone like Alfrid caring for anything other than himself was reassuring.

By the loud and contented purr drifting from the cat in his arms, Bard could tell that she was more than pleased to be held.  
“What’s her name?” Bard asked, looking towards Alfrid with a heartfelt cheerfulness glowing behind his eyes.

Alfrid took in the sight of his adversary; it again struck him how the man was capable of turning a situation around in a blink of an eye. They’d been bickering and hurling insults at one another just a moment ago. Now Bard was looking at him with a joyous radiance, just like the second time he was in Alfrid's home uninvited. He smiled at him with the same golden eyes and with it came the identical and unpleasant sensation as back then. His chest felt tight and his mind froze, unable to break eye contact.  
He put it down to the circumstance that Bard was the first to practice such an excision on him and nothing more. 

What was of concern to him was the particular cat, resting blissfully in Bard’s arms.  
“It’s a cat, it doesn’t have a name.” He felt flustered under Bard’s gaze. The feline did indeed own a name, though the very thought of him knowing that he had enough of a sentiment to grace the creature with a name was something he sought to avoid.

“Well for just a cat, it’s obvious that you care for her.” Bard mused at the clear realisation that this new information about the younger man was just why he wanted to pry.  
He first had been reluctant to rule Alfrid out of having any potential when it came down to selflessness or even a need for companionship, but this new development demonstrated that it was worth diving into the complexity of his mind. Certainly, the councillor couldn’t claim that he was as hard-hearted as he previously portrayed.

Alfrid scoffed at Bard’s remark. He desired nothing more than to take back his cat from his rival’s embrace. It filled him with anxiety, the thing he deemed precious in his life was being used as a strategic tool to open him up and spill whatever pure feelings he still possessed.  
Still, if he were to take her now, his heart would be on his sleeve.

“Believe what you wish, that creature has a habit of breaking its way into my home. It’s not the only one with that particular habit.” Alfrid mumbled out in his displeasure.

“If she’s an unwanted visitor, I can take her off your hands. In any case, my children would love to be acquainted” Bard knew well that the cat was more to Alfrid then he was letting on and his little comment had ignited a repressed emotion in the darkness of his eyes. It was those orbs that continuously provided him with the answers he desired; they were expressive beyond their owner’s will.

Alfrid felt the blood drain from him, the thought of losing the only valuable company to him filled him with what could only be described as a cold anguish.  
Every fibre in his being screamed out at him to claim her as his own so that Bard couldn't steal her from him, but all he could do was silently observe as Bard played with his emotions like they meant nothing.

The long haired cat started to wriggle her plump body into Bard’s grip; her purpose was to find the warmest position to rest in. She shimmied herself so that she could enjoy the insides of Bard’s well-worn coat.  
Bard started to laugh audibly at the sensation of her soft fur against his chest as the audacious animal nuzzled within his top.

“A little help here?” Bard was enjoying the odd sensation and the exasperated expression on Alfrid’s face at the situation. On the other hand, his clothing was no place for a cat and he was overcome with the desire to laugh, despite Alfrid’s lack of eagerness to find enjoyment in the matter.

So with an exhale of defeat, Alfrid moved forward to reclaim his cat.  
The position they were in remained unsettlingly awkward and the fact that Alfrid had to get his hands beneath the fabric of Bard’s top was all the more reason to feel uncomfortable.

“You have hands of ice!” Bard burst out when Alfrid accidently brushed his skin against his chest. The only response he got was a strong look of loathing from the councillor before he hooked his arms up under his top completely, scooping out the pudgy animal and leaving Bard standing in his untidy shirt.

Alfrid clung to his feline companion, reassured to have her back and she too showed him a deep fondness by roughly rubbing her cheek over his.  
He refused to look Bard in the eye and painted his face in a mask of venomous fury as a warning not to push him further.

 

~

Two sets of eyes had observed the bargeman as he vanished into Alfrid's home.  
The men had no business with either of them, but the unusual nature of the visit had caught their attention. The antisocial councillor was now inviting a well-known menace into his house?

"What do you make of that? It's no hour to be paying a visit. What would the likes of Bard need with Alfrid? I would propose we let Braga know of this to be certain that it’s noted."

"It will be worth reporting on, though I would cut out the middle man and report straight to the Master himself." The slightly diminutive of the two held his eyes on the councillor’s home.

His mind was quick to analyse and it had put him in a reasonable position in his ranks. Alfrid was well known for his outward aversion for the inhabitants of the town and a healthy amount of the hatred was focused on Bard on a daily basis. So seeing the single father invited into Alfrid's personal dwellings generated suspicion and disbelief.

"Tomorrow then, after night watch." The quieter of the two rubbed his hands together to keep them warm.

"No Ormar, we report tonight." Randulf, the more audacious of the guards ushered his partner to join him as he slowly approached the town hall.

"The lanterns are out. The Master will be asleep, there is no use in waking him for something that could be dealt with by sunlight." Ormar joined Randulf’s side.

“This matter is about his councillor, the only time he’s away from the Master’s side is when he’s asleep. For the sake of animosity it’s wise to give information on someone when they aren’t present.” Randulf scoffed at his colleague’s dawdling mind. “Or would you rather a more upfront report? You know what Alfrid’s like”

“I understand. I’m just concerned at how he will respond to being awakened with such news.” Ormar muttered, the task of waking up the most powerful man in Long Lake made him apprehensive.

“I’m certain he will be not be happy to know that his councillor is socialising with an enemy of the state. But he will reward us for our honesty and devotion.” Randulf spoke softly, passing other guards to climb the steps of the town hall.

As an honourable guard, Randulf felt it more than necessary to take matters into his own hands. If it meant upsetting the order of the town, then so be it. An infected limb should be amputated to save the body.

..

Ormar and Randulf entered the Master’s darkened chambers, heavy snoring could be heard reverberating around them.  
The Master lay on his bed like a large seal on the shore, his grotesque excess of weight stifling his breathing and every once in a while he would choke on his own wheezes.

“This is your idea Randulf, you should be the one to wake him.” Ormar felt a childish sense fall over him; it was like he was tiptoeing around a sleeping bear.  
“You are too timid for your own good Ormar, don’t fret.” Randulf approached the bedside and with a bold movement, he shook the shoulder of his leader. Ormar held his breath, but the older man didn’t stir from his sleep.  
So Randulf shook him a second time, harder than before, but failed yet again to wake him.

After a small pause of thought, Randulf reached into his waistband and tugged at a small coin pouch. He held it close to the Master before rattling the coins within.  
The clear sound of his wages clinking together triggered something in the Master and he awoke with a start.

“Hmm, what? What’s happening… heh?” He babbled out, twisting his head from side to side, trying to analyse his surroundings.

“We are sorry to have to wake you Sire, but we have some information that you might wish to know of.” Randulf, being the braver and more forward of the two, spoke with confidence.

“What on earth? At this hour? What is so dire that it gives you reason to wake me?” The Master sputtered out in all of his sleep-induced confusion, slightly irritated that his precious slumber had been broken by two guardsmen.

“We understand, but it is about your councillor and it’s best to inform you whilst he is not at your side.” The master raised a bushy eyebrow; his councillor being brought up was unexpected.

”Elaborate.”

“Bard, Sire, we’ve seen him disappearing into your councillors’ home. We thought it would be best to bring this to light, after all, a bargeman of his reputation should not be socialising with one of your men. Who knows what influence he might have?” Randulf watched the ruddy face of the Master darken at the news. It was the second report on Alfrid mingling with Bard.

“You were right to bring this to my attention. I think it’s best to keep an eye on the two and find out what ill intent that bargeman has. Alfrid must not find out about this, I wish all guardsmen to observe him and report anything that might be considered suspicious.” The Master muttered curses under his breath. Alfrid had been at his side ever since he had stumbled across him in the servant’s district. The young boy had been reading in a grimy little kitchen; it had impressed him that someone of his age, background and upbringing was proficient enough to teach himself how to read.

He had given him the job of dealing with his accounts there and then.  
The thought of Bard turning someone like Alfrid of all people against him left a bad taste in his mouth. Alfrid owed him for his compassion all those years ago and he’d be damned if Bard manipulated his way into his head.

Randulf put his hand on his heart and swore his oath.  
“I will report to Braga immediately, Sire. I can assure you that neither of them will go against you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you goes to Giligan_Grapes for helping me on a daily basis! You’re an amazing friend!
> 
> Big thank you to the very kind and wonderful readers who never fail to make me smile! With the on-going support and comments, It really helps me keep this story going.
> 
> Also If anyone is interested in seeing some of my Alfrid and Bard art. ~ http://i1062.photobucket.com/albums/t486/Bardfrid/Bardfid_zpsonorqxp9.jpg


	7. Life’s bitter milk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have updated the warnings! Please make sure to check them before reading. Thank you.  
> ________________________________________________________________________________________________

“You may have to run that past me once again, I think I might have misheard you.” Ormar spluttered out, unsure what to make of his associate’s haphazard suggestion.

“Think about it Ormar, this is a perfect opportunity. The bargeman is up to something and I’m sure it’s nothing decent, so it will be in the Master’s best interest if we eliminate him. The easy part is turning this situation in our favour and making sure everything slips into place.” Randulf looked around himself to be sure that no one could hear him. His deep set eyes were full of mischief. “The hard part is killing the Master’s councillor.”

“Yes, that’s the part of your plan that I have some concerns with. Why has the thought of murder crossed your mind? It will be treason to harm any member of the Master’s council” Ormar hissed under his voice, the madness of the proposal still had to sink in. 

“Have you gone mad Randulf?”

“Listen, with Alfrid dead and out of the way, the position of councillor will be there for the taking. That’s our objective. just focus on that. We will make sure Alfrid meets his end and point the direction of the blame on Bard. He will be hung like the low life his is and you and I will rise up in rank. Of Course we will also have to work to deem worthy of the position.” Randulf watched as Ormar shifted from foot to foot, the audacious and cruel plan taking a hold of his nerves.

“Ormar, you are like a brother to me and that is why I’m telling you this. I will not force you into this if it will fill you with guilt, but I do need you by my side” Randulf placed a firm hand to the shoulder of his friend. “Just say the word.”

“I will not desert you, though this train of thought is more than distressing. What would you need me to do?” Ormar felt himself pulled into a quick embrace before Randulf pulled away to offer him a jaunted smile. “I promise you I will make us the masters’ deputies. Just trust in me.”

…

Alfrid held the cat in his arms close; the control he held over his emotions slipped further the longer Bard stayed.  
“Don’t touch my cat, ever.” He buried his nose into the long fur and got lost in the black and grey of the precious animal.

“So, what’s her name?” Bard let out a soft breathy laugh, the man was secretive about the most simplest of things. The sight of Alfrid concealing his face into the ridiculous feline was uplifting. It was the first real sign that Alfrid had any trace of a heart - the proof was in front of him.

“Mishkelir.” Alfrid muffled out. Surely, the bargeman would be satisfied by his admission.  
He hoped it would fill his interests and convince him to leave, but it felt so raw to even open up the slightest bit, to bend to the will of his blackmailer. It left him feeling dirty and vulnerable. All he wanted in life was to live in the safe solitude that he had secured for himself.

“That is surprising. It’s a nice name.” Bard acknowledged, his warm voice was kind and calm, friendly beyond reason.

“You aren’t gloating? I was sure you would have something ready to rub in my face, or are you waiting for the right time?” Alfrid lifted his face from Mishkelir’s messy fur in an attempt to read Bard for any glimpse of mockery.

“Sorry to disappoint you, but I have no intention to gloat, mock or show you any other forms of cruelty. I know that might be hard for you to understand.” Bard traced Alfrid’s face with his tan eyes. He could feel a new emotion bubbling up inside him. It saddened him greatly to know that the younger man was convinced that the people around him wanted nothing but to injure him on an emotional level. So much so that he had actively driven away opportunities of companionship; only to save himself from heartache.

“Don’t act like you’re morally decent. The only purpose you are in my home is that you’re blackmailing me. Other people might fall for your tricks but I’m not as blind as they are to your deceit.” Alfrid submerged his face once more, considering putting the dagger at his side to good use.

 

“It’s not my finest approach to getting to know someone, but I need to make sure that you are accessable. I’m sorry it has to be like this, but you left me with no other choice.” Bard sighed, seeing that Alfrid had a strong look of judgment in his eyes.

 

“I make my living by transporting goods from one place to another. What gets me to the destination is sometimes of lesser importance than the destination itself." 

“How poetic. Maybe you are sailing on waters out of your depth.” The comeback was a little lacking, but it got his point across.

"Well, it sounds like a challenge" Bard responded with a smile, he’d never once thought that it would be easy with Alfrid.

“Look Bard, I’m exhausted and the longer you stay here, bothering me, will just make tomorrow harder on us both.” Bard considered Alfrid’s words, he hadn’t been there all that long. He had failed to put quill to parchment but he had succeeded in his quest to find Alfrid’s softer side.

“I take it I have no choice but to see you here tomorrow night?” Alfrid complained. Bard was now fully involved in his life, even after all the fighting he had put up to keep him at bay: it had been in vain.

“Actually, I’ll be gone for three days. My trade route is set to the farmland in the north. Good night Alfrid” Bard shot a light-hearted smile at the councillor before reaching a hand out to pat the contented cat in his arms. “Goodnight Mishkelir, make sure Alfrid drinks no more for today.” Alfrid rolled his eyes at Bard’s childish behaviour and the rather tasteless insult.

The barge man left, leaving Alfrid to glare after him.

….

“Remind me, why have we taken the position as guards of the transport route?” Ormar was more than a little upset at his partner’s choice to have them head to land. It would mean for them to escort the traders and keep them safe from anyone who might see value in the goods that they shipped. Only guards were put on duty for the more prized goods that found their way into the depleted town; however Ormar felt it a tiresome task despite Randulf’s enthusiasm.

“Because Ormar, this is a perfect time to strike. Our bargeman today is no other than Bard and the goods he’s transporting goes right to the town hall. This is what we need. Don’t you see? Today will be our defining moment.” Randulf spoke with passion; the twisted plot in his mind was coming together sooner than he had anticipated.  
Randulf and Ormar were standing poised and ready on the docks, waiting for their victim to reach his post.

…

 

Bard heaved in a worn out sigh, the last three days had dragged by with a slow pace. The two guards who accompanied him were different from the others who had travelled with him in the past. They kept to themselves and any little  
banter Bard offered would die in the air, they had no intention of small talk.  
Even the last crew had indulged him, sharing jokes and tales of misadventure.

Normally it would be refreshing to travel in silence, hearing nothing but the sounds of lapping water against his barge. Yet three full days with trifling amounts of conversation felt like an eternity when all he could see was water and hazy mountains.  
How he missed his children; their eager and cheerful questions and stories would soon be thrown at him on his return and it would cure him of his solitude. His loneliness was so great that even his heart sang at the thought of being received by a grumpy Alfrid at the toll gate.

The two guards had been sitting at the hull of the barge, playing cards and muttering amongst themselves. They caught sight of the town and her crooked roofs jutting out of the mist.  
They stood up with their eagerness, the view of home approaching.

"Fine work Bard, you have got us home in good stead" Randulf, who had kept a distance from Bard throughout the journey, suddenly spoke up.  
He looked to Ormar whose attitude looked a little less enthusiastic at the sight of Laketown, his mind full of the horrible deed he had found himself in.

Bard effortlessly maneuvered his barge within the maze of carved pillars. The Master’s private toll gate waiting for their return.

"Open the gates!" One of the guards positioned atop of the entrance barked down, his voice carrying brashly down to another who in turn scuttled off to fetch the councillor.

Bard watched as an irritated-looking Alfrid emerged to take count of the shipment.  
"Papers" Alfrid said plainly whilst holding out a hand, his intention to blot Bard from the procedure as much as he possibly could.

"Good morning, everything is in order" Bard handed over a ruffled piece of paper from the depth of his pocket. It had been crumpled and worn in the movements of the travel. Alfrid looked at it with a small amount of grumpiness. The bargeman's treatment of official government documentation had a lot to be desired.

With a quick glance at the content, Alfrid ushered the nearby guards to move the wool and other goods into the dry lobby of the toll booth to be organised and documented correctly. 

"Looks like I'm now free for the day" Bard beamed at Alfrid who sneered as he passed him “I'll see you tonight” the low comment drifted close to Alfrid's ear, just loud enough for him to acknowledge without any of the guards to hear.

In turn Alfrid exhaled, ignoring the bargeman to the best of his ability.

 

.....

 

The paperwork proved to be an easy task to complete. It merely involved writing down the small amount of materials and objects that had been transported by the capable hands of Bard. The journey had been a lengthy one for the likes of the bargeman and the quantity of stock was minimal in comparison to the effort.  
The town required decent wool and with the new shipment the skilled citizens would be able to craft more fabrics to sell in the markets.

Alfrid shifted in his seat, uncomfortable in his position over the ledger. Next to him lay a small half-drunk bottle of milk, it was his typical bounty from the trade and he would drink it as soon as he had the time so not to let it spoil.

He would however leave a small amount to take home with him, a gift for Mishkelir to enjoy.  
He mused at the thought of returning home to her; she had taken a liking to Bard.  
Not that it had surprised him in the least. She was a soft hearted creature with a powerful need for attention and love. It amused him to know that she was the polar opposite to him, but he cherished her for those traits.

He chewed his lip in thought, Bard now knew that he had been stowing away a companion and therefore a proof of the sentimentality that still lived inside him - whether he’d like to acknowledge that it existed in the first place.

He coughed slightly; his throat had slowly started to burn and distracted him from his writing, much to his displeasure. The sensation itself would not have been much of a concern to him, since he was used to contracting infections due to his weakened body. But he was even more distracted from his task when his vision started to shift, the quill in his hand became two and his neat writing warped around a tangle of unrecognisable shapes.

The feeling was quick to manifest and spared within his oesophagus, the burning creeping downwards from his parched mouth to his chest with an unpleasant realisation that something was very wrong.  
He took a moment before rising out of his chair, trying his best to ignore the walls as they swayed and pulsed in his distorted vision.

If he were to continue his duties with any trace of comfort, he would need to seek the assistance of the resident healer. An aging lass of great knowledge in the art of medicines and remedies, she would be capable of easing any symptoms enough to tolerate a day of work.  
So Alfrid, despite his ill health, made for the door in an attempt to carry on without the underlying dread leaking into his mind.  
This was no ordinary sickness; he could recognise the way his skin burnt and wrapped him in a sensation of unpleasant heat.  
With the movement of exciting the building, he was embraced by the icy air of Long-Lake; it cooled him down but only enough to take the clammy edge off of him.  
Forcing down a dehydrated and raw gulp, he swiftly made his way in the direction of the healer who he knew through regular meetings. 

She remained the only one to know of his continuing struggle with his feeble muscles and the agony that came with owning a fragile body. He had gone to her for help ever since he had been brave enough - or more or less desperate enough - to ask for assistance. Back then he had only been a child, suffering from the corrosive environment that he had been unfortunate enough to be born into. 

When he reached the weatherworn entrance of the healer’s home, he saw no issue in forcing his way into the building. His mind was racing as fast as his heart was hammering against his chest. His earthy eyes searched hazily around in the dimly lit room for signs of life.

“It’s unlike you to visit by daylight, what can I do for you?” A soft and warm voice drew Alfrid’s focus to a woman who stood with a wooden bowl in her thin fingers.  
She gazed at him in a mystified and yet uninterested fashion, though the look of the pale man in front of her stirred up genuine concern.

“I require something to dull a sore throat” Alfrid droned out in a fading voice, trying to focus on the woman’s wrinkled features, but his eyes refused to stay still and his gaze darted in and out of focus.

“Let me take a good look at you.” She placed the bowl down and approached the councillor. With care she reached out her hand to clutch Alfrid’s chin. He let her manipulate the angle of his head so that she could observe his symptoms firsthand.

She let her glassy grey eyes take in the sight of his cheeks. They were tinted with a dull redness and his murky eye’s had a look of someone who was in darkness. The pitch black void of his pupils had dilated to an unnatural extent and it was clear to see that his attention was drifting.

“Just give me something” Alfrid snapped as he pulled away from the gentle grip and swatted at her hand for good measure. He started to pace in his agitated state, his mind racing; the one he had gone to for assistance was infuriatingly slow paced. The whole world around him felt slow and his mind was racing too fast to make sense of anything.

He pulled at his collar, the heat felt maddening and he wanted nothing more than to remove his coat or even dive into the freezing waters to relieve him of the discomfort.

 

“It’s too hot in here” His voice faltered as he scanned the room. Next to a dusty window lay some herbs, soaking in a deep clay bowl, a step in creating an ointment no doubt. Though, Alfrid stormed over to pluck the bowl up into his numb hands and continued to empty its contents into the open fire. 

The action was brazen but the healer was wise enough not to raise to the councillor’s actions. She sighed, knowing him well enough to understand that the restlessness in his movements weren’t fitting to his usual characteristics.

“Come closer, I need to examine you” She put both of her arms out in a gesture for him to come forward, though he did not respond.

Alfrid, though his vision was worsening could make out shadows that pulsed and darted out of his sight every time he attempted to acknowledge them. They held no shape or form, but every so often one blot of darkness would morph and stay long enough for him to see. He furrowed his brow, the confusion and delirious nature of his sickness filled his head with a cluster of panic and a feeling of hopelessness. 

The doctor took her time to study the strangeness of her patient, concern growing the more information that she managed to scrap from his physicality.  
Alfrid turned to her with a renewed look of expectancy.

 

“I need something, anything will do” His voice was fading into a breathy hiss, like there was no power left in his lungs.  
He flinched violently when the greying lady reached out to lay a hand onto his forehead, it felt hot under her fingers but his skin was dry and pale.

“When did you start to feel this way?” She questioned, again looking into his face with a keen curiosity.

“I’ve not felt like this for long, it came on suddenly” Alfrid mumbled out, the pressure growing behind his eyes added to his woes.

“Then, what was the last thing you had as nourishment?”

“Milk, only moments ago. What relevance do your questions have? Just provide me something!” Alfrid gritted his teeth together violently, his mind not allowing him to keep his composure.  
The healer felt her heart sink slightly at the statement; her confidence in her own knowledge gave her a good indicator into what the councillor suffered from.

“This will not be easy for you to hear, but judging by what I can see. I believe you have just ingested poison.” Her heart was in the right place, her occupation as healer had been something that she felt true to. She wanted nothing more than to heal the sick and she had seen Alfrid grow from a fragile and scared child to a twisted and hostile man.

Alfrid’s face fell slightly at her words, and for a moment she saw the boy that she used to know. Scared and alone, his dusky eyes drifted off of hers enough for him to reflect on the information.

"They want me dead, all of them" Alfrid roared and even with his fading voice it was enough to carry.

"You know don't you? You know who poisoned me!" He stepped forwards with his dark hair falling forwards over his eyes, slightly making it look like he was coming undone, much like his mind.  
His pale lips quivered up into a snarl whilst his eyes were wide. Madness  
filled them and all rational thought had left him.

"Alfrid, you need to calm yourself" The healer backed up slightly in fear of the approaching man. Her vision shifted from the manic councillor to the open door that stood behind him, still wide from his sudden entrance.

"I cannot be calm; I may as well have a noose around my neck. They want to see me hang; to choke me to death." Alfred's wispy voice seeped out and into the small nearby marketplace.  
The aggravated tone resulted in turning heads and questioning gazes towards the healer’s shack.

"No, I cannot be calm, not while I'm surrounded by blood thirsty wolves. They won't leave me alone, they won't rest!" The elderly woman watched helplessly as the councillor paced in front of her like starving dog driven by madness, he grasped at his hair and twisted in his delirium, the poison in his blood polluting his actions.

"But you must know! You know everyone in this wretched town and your knowledge of cures and poisons are unchallenged. Tell me who it is!" Once again, Alfrid marched back up to the startled healer, her wrinkled hands raised in defence.

"I don't know of anyone who would do such a thing" Her grey eyes caught sight of a small cluster of good-hearted locals who had advanced in on the open door, much to her slight comfort.

"You choose to deceive me when I’m in this state? You are in it together,  
each and every one of you. I know what you’re like, I know what they  
think!" Alfrid, blinded by frenzy and terror, reached into his coat. His white fingers wrapped around the decorative handle of the dagger, hooked safely in his belt. 

Seeing the madman’s clear intentions, the other backed up in fear of what the unhinged man might do in his rage. With his back to the gathering crowd forming outside of the makeshift home, Alfrid remained unaware. His focus was on the woman in front of him.  
He breathed through his mouth with quick and ragged pants. What little self-control he had left playing on his mind not to injure the woman in front of him. The overwhelming emotions boiled up inside and threatened to burn everything he touched.

A few fearless members of the crowd pushed forward to study the situation.  
Alfrid’s raspy barks of paranoid accusations had drawn the attention of yet another well-meaning citizen who, like his fellow neighbours, pushed to the front. His golden brown eyes analysed the black clad man and the restrained movement he made while pulling the dagger from his belt.

“If you don’t tell me, I will force it from you” Alfrid’s voice was low and wispy, his knuckles turned a shade of white as his grip on the blade increased. With it fully on display and his actions clear, the mass of people at the door gasped and roared in unison. But before any well -ntentioned stranger could have interfered, Bard who had joined them had moved swiftly, beating them to it.  
His robust hand worked its way around the councillor’s wrist, holding his arm and weapon in place.  
The solid torso of the bargeman pushed heavily up against Alfrid’s back, his free arm worked sturdily across the poisoned man’s neck, robbing him of any movement.

“Drop the dagger now.” Bard’s words drilled into Alfrid, the anger in his voice spiked his fears and muggy distress. “Just…drop it” Bard snarled his threats through his gritted teeth.

Alfrid could feel the hot breath in his ear and the tight hold on him filled him with a cold and animalistic panic, thus with hindered response, he uncoiled his fingers from the weapon.  
The sound of the heavy object hitting the wooden floor confirmed to Bard that Alfrid had listened.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Bards furious tone stuck and his hold remained, though Alfrid soon twisted, his free arm swinging back and his sharp elbow connecting to Bard’s diaphragm.  
The impact of the blow caused Bard to double over, the wind leaving his lungs and his hold faltering on Alfrid.  
It offered the sick man enough space to slip free and sprint to the open door.

“You will rot with me! All of you” Alfrid cried out in his exhausted voice, the crowd drifted away from him and the strangeness of his proclamations. The gap was enough to let him disappear and escape from sight.

 

Bard coughed, the breath that had been stolen from him returned sufficiently enough for him to stand.

“Eir! Are you hurt?” Bard turned and placed two supportive hands on the healers shoulders, his eyes were full of worry.

“I’m unhurt. If you had not been so quick...” She dove forward, embracing her saviour with a quivering voice.

“I will not let him get away with such malicious actions, to think that he was capable of this” Though his anger pumped through his veins, Bard could feel a small amount of grief gather in his chest. He had shown Alfrid the benefit of doubt, to prove that he had some redeeming aspects to his miserable self; but now, he had gone too far and it hurt Bard to know that he had been wrong about him.

“He may be cursed with a black heart, but what you saw was the work of poison in his blood. Someone in this town has cast a death sentence on him, and now his actions are run by whatever venom ails his body” Eir knitted her fingers in her anxiety. She didn’t blame Alfrid fully, not when his mind was being altered by a toxin.

“Poisoned?” Bard’s eyes waded at the news and all the anger in his body faded.  
“I need to find him” Without providing the healer enough time to respond, he was hastily running after Alfrid.

With agility on his side, Bard managed to make up the distance between himself and Alfrid. The man was marching towards the town hall to the best of his ability.  
He was almost there, the guards that surrounded the building were in plain sight and it proved to be troublesome, for as soon as Bard was close enough to hook himself onto the councillor, the heavily armoured guards turned on him.

“Get off me! You cannot save yourself now. I won’t sleep until I know that you are removed from my life one way or another” Alfrid whizzed out his anger at the man as the guards removed him from his person.  
Bard protested, but the men holding him back allowed the poisoned man to enter the Master’s dwellings, leaving Bard separated from him.

...

Alfrid felt his skin burning under his clothing and all that could hear was the hammering of his heart. With some effort he wriggled out of his coat so that the overwhelming heat could not hinder him further.  
Taking a few breaths, he walked briskly into the halls, finding the master immediately.  
The scabby man looked towards Alfrid with an expression of annoyance, his grey blue eyes cast themselves onto Alfrid. His physical appearance spoke volumes of his health.

He was about to make a statement, but his councillor interrupted him.

 

“The people of the town sire, they prove to be nothing more than vultures. They will feast on our flesh if we do nothing to stop them” Alfrid glanced at the fatter man with his wild eyes. He started to pace like a caged animal in his delirium.

“What are you…” The master stated but was once again cut off.

“I have been poisoned sire; they want nothing more than to watch me perish. They hide behind their masks but I can see them, I have always seen them!” Alfrid snapped, his hair dishevelled and his eye’s lined in purple. The master reacted to the man’s paranoid rambling in disbelief and fear.

“Poisoned! This is distressing, but enough about you and your insane drivel. What about me? I have more to lose than you ever will. I’ll have to rally more guards to up security; I’ll have to find a taster so that I don’t suffer your fate. This is all so frustrating” The auburn man rose from his chair ungraciously, his eyes aflame. He brought his fist down onto his desk in his outward rage.

Alfrid stood, shaking slightly at his ally. The Master showed no signs of empathy or acknowledgment of his suffering and continued to focus on his own well being.  
The wretched man rounded his desk and walked to the entrance, making sure to give a wide berth so not to come close to his councillor.

“Guards!” His booming voice called, pulling a few of the closest guards into the halls.  
Alfrid’s mind was hazy, almost blank but his body surged with energy. He stood muttering to himself so that he could cling to a thread of thought.  
The Master would now send out his men to find out who dared to poison him and bring them down, but the thought of it was ripped from him head when he felt himself be grabbed and pulled without hesitation.

“Get him out, he’s unhinged. Make sure he’s kept at bay, I don’t need the prattling of a lunatic at this dark time” The Master ordered bluntly, pointing an aggressive finger towards to door.  
At this Alfrid started to resist the hold on him, he cursed the guards and he cursed the Master.

“You will throw me to my death so easily? Your blood will boil just like mine, just be patient and you will see” Alfrid bucked and pulled, failing to free himself from the assault.  
The men stayed silent, dragging him down the wooden steps and out of the hall.  
Once at the bottom, the sturdy men released him with a direct shove, leaving him kneeling on the floor.

“You’ll get yours!” His voice cracked and rasped. His vision warped; confusing him enough that he chose to remain kneeling, heaving heavy breaths after the strain of the fight.  
He was not alone at the bottom, for Bard had stayed. Observing the outcome of such a predicament, though the last thing he had imagined seeing was the councillor being cast out like an old dog.  
He hurried to the man’s side, kneeling down to aid him.

“Get out of my sight, you lowly worm! From that accursed day you dragged me out of the water, you damned me to an agonising and ever so crawling death! You yourself are the real poison I am fatally impaired with!” Alfrid spat out at his helper, shoving him for good measure.

“Don’t you come near me” Bard heard Alfrid’s voice crack and the pain that clung to it.  
Trying not to dwell on what the sickly man had said, Bard linked an arm around Alfrid’s waist to hoist him to his feet. Even with Alfrid struggling against him with all his might, he wasn’t quite as strong as the bargeman.

“Stop fighting me” It was apparent to Bard that Alfrid was in no mind to listen to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well things are starting to kick off and now poor Bard will be left to pick up the pieces.  
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.
> 
> Special thanks to Giligan grapes for the help!
> 
> GUYS! ~ I have uploaded one of two chapters for valentines! If you want more Bard/Alfrid head on over to see my story ~ https://archiveofourown.org/works/3362711


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